


felix and lysithea's marvelous food adventures

by nsfwena (enamuko)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Background Dimivain, Breastfeeding, Chocolate, Creampie, F/M, Food Kink, Gags, Grinding, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Lactation, Light Bondage, Mildly Dubious Consent, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pregnant Sex, Stuffing, Vaginal Fingering, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24952204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enamuko/pseuds/nsfwena
Summary: The side effect of having your relationship effectively start because of sweets was that they played a much larger role later on than in most people’s relationships.(A series of several different times food and eating has played heavily into Felix and Lysithea's sex life.)Chapter 1: body chocolate / food on body.Chapter 2: aphrodisiacs.Chapter 3: food on body.Chapter 4: hand feeding / stuffing.Chapter 5: lactation / breastfeeding.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Lysithea von Ordelia, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 21





	1. body chocolate / food on body

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my lovely girlfriend. I went back and forth on whether to post these as separate fics or whether to keep them all together, but since they follow the same general theme, I decided to keep them together.

“Now, remember… Hold _very_ still.”

Felix snorted; as if he was going to forget something like _that_ , considering exactly what was at risk.

He couldn’t help but give a small shudder of anticipation that went all the way down his spine and through the rest of his body when he saw Lysithea carefully lift the lid of the small cooking pot, steam rising gently from it as she stirred it once, twice with her spoon, then brought it to her lips to see if it was cool enough for their purposes.

Apparently deciding it was satisfactory, she took a larger spoonful and, with one last pause and glance upwards and, “Okay?” to ensure he wasn’t about to back out,

(to which he responded with a curt nod and an almost strangled, “Okay,” because this was far from the most intense or extreme thing he’d ever done but it was _new_ and that was always exciting and stressful and the anticipation was practically killing him)

She started to, carefully, pour the melted chocolate across his chest and stomach.

It had been Lysithea’s idea, because of course it had been; he didn’t care much for sweets, so the idea of licking chocolate off someone’s body didn’t really appeal to him.

Once Lysithea got an idea into her head, though, it was impossible to dislodge— and being on the receiving end of it?

Well… Felix didn’t mind _that_ idea so much.

So now, here they were. Felix had his wrists tied together above his head and attached to the headrest with simple and comfortable silk ties (Lysithea wanted him as comfortable as possible, even when he usually preferred them a bit rougher) and he was naked— completely exposed, even his hair let down out of his usual hair tie.

Lysithea had seen him like this a thousand times before, but he still felt the urge to turn his head, hide his face in the pillow, even curl in on himself. It wasn’t quite shyness— he’d never felt insecure or anything in the bathhouse, or undressing in front of a healer. A body was just a body, something that got him from place to place and which he had to maintain in a certain way to keep it in fighting condition, like any other weapon or piece of armour.

No, it was… The vulnerability, he supposed, that got him every time. (Not that he would ever say that out loud. But he was pretty sure even Lysithea couldn’t read minds. Yet.

If anyone could figure it out, it was probably her, though.)

Lysithea was sitting next to him on the bed, still fully clothed, as she carefully poured the first spoonful of chocolate onto his chest.

“You have to be careful with chocolate and other confections,” Lysithea said, almost humming as she tilted the spoon this way and that, almost like she was trying to draw on his skin with the chocolate. “Sugar can cause far more severe burns than other materials when heated.”

The way she said it was so _clinical_ ; not that that was unusual for Lysithea, but it sent even more shudders up his spine to hear her so calm, collected, almost business-like as she quite literally decorated him.

“How does it feel?” Lysithea asked, pausing in her delicate work and looking to him.

He could barely maintain eye contact, but she raised an eyebrow, and would obviously not _get on with it_ unless she got an answer.

“...Fine,” he said, squirming a little in his restraints. “It feels fine. Just— keep going.”

“Alright,” she said, firmly, but with a small satisfied smile. “You remember the passphrase, yes? And tell me if it is uncomfortably warm.”

He nodded to both, hoping she wouldn’t force him to say anything else out loud right now, while he was still processing the fact that he was lying in bed completely exposed with his wife _decorating him_ with _chocolate_ for her own amusement.

And indeed, the chocolate was hot— hot enough to make him flinch a bit when it first met his skin, the difference in temperature between their cool bedroom and the heat making him shiver in a way that definitely wasn’t helping his urge to curl up and hide.

But it wasn’t _uncomfortable_.

“Hm,” she said, and he watched as she leaned back and admired her own handiwork. “I have to say, Felix. You do look good enough to eat.”

He _almost_ said something about how cheesy a line that was, before Lysithea reached out to run a finger through the chocolate. A single finger running down his chest and it was somehow enough to make him arch his back, almost pathetically, into the touch.

When Lysithea brought the finger to her mouth and sucked on it far more alluringly than was necessary, he could have just about _died_.

“Mm.” She licked her already perfectly clean finger, keeping her eyes locked firmly on Felix. “Sweet. I should have expected as much.”

That was almost corny enough despite the alluring look in her eyes to bring him right out of it, and he went to chastise her for exactly that—

—until she leaned in and licked a stripe up his body, starting just above his belly button and ending just _teasingly_ shy of a nipple, at the exact same moment as she wrapped a hand around his so-far neglected cock.

Felix arched his back, biting his lip so hard he could almost taste blood, his embarrassment about being so easily wound up drowned out entirely by the sensation of Lysithea’s tongue dragging across his body as her delicate hand stroked him slowly and precisely, pausing at the head to rub her palm against it in a way that made him twitch against her.

He swore he heard her chuckle as her hand, now slick with his precum, ran back down his length in a hard stroke— and then, suddenly, it was gone.

He opened his eyes and glared at her, which made her laugh, a beautiful sound that immediately set every one of his nerves on fire because there was an almost _mocking_ tone to it.

“Relax,” she said, not nearly as authoritatively as she needed to for him to actually bother listening, not that he could have anyway; they had journeyed past the point of ‘relaxed’ when she had spent a good ten minutes carefully tying his hands to the bed and then heating up the chocolate where he could see while he was completely naked and exposed. “I’m just going to get comfortable. I don’t want to stain my clothes.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before—”

He was in the middle of saying the very first thing that had immediately popped into his head when two things happened; the first was that he realized what she had said and what he was responding to, and the second was that Lysithea took hold of her shirt and lifted it over her head.

Felix had seen Lysithea naked _many_ times before, and would hopefully see it many _more_ times, but he had to stop and stare a bit every time anyway.

She was paler than he was, and less scarred, but the ones she did have were all the more noticeable for it. Some of them he had watched her get; some of them he had no idea what they were from, and he doubted he ever would, but that was okay.

What was far more important at the moment was the line he could trace down her body; over the ridge of her collarbone, gently around the curve of her breast, down the flat plane of her stomach. Once her shirt was taken care of she moved to the edge of the bed so she could shimmy out of her leggings as well, allowing the path his eyes were following to continue downward to the soft white curls that disappeared between her thighs.

He licked his dry lips and tried not to squirm when she climbed fully back onto the bed, settling herself between his legs as she reached once again for the warm chocolate. He could have made a comment about how she was obviously more concerned about her clothes than she was about the bed sheets, or about how she hadn’t even finished her first helping (which was cooling and getting almost uncomfortably hardened on his chest and stomach), but his predatory gaze met her own at the same moment that she dipped her spoon back into the container and scooped up a too-big spoonful.

“Okay?” she asked, leaning forward with the spoon tantalizingly over his stomach.

Felix nodded.


	2. aphrodisiacs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild dubious consent warning of the aphrodisiacs variety; lysithea feeds felix food containing aphrodisiacs without his knowledge. he's fully in control of his faculties and fully consents to the acts thereafter.

The side effect of having your relationship effectively start because of sweets was that they played a much larger role later on than in most people’s relationships.

“Felix, try this for me.”

He was sitting at his desk, writing letters (not exactly his favourite way to spend a day, cooped up behind his father’s old desk giving himself a hand cramp when he could just as easily be training, but given that his so-called friends had a habit of dropping by _uninvited_ if he didn’t return their banal pleasantries every so often it was worth the headache to avoid the even bigger headache of Sylvain inviting himself over and making himself at home on a whim) when Lysithea came up behind him and leaned against his shoulder.

He turned to ask what she wanted, and if it could wait until he finished writing the third almost identical letter in his pile, telling Ingrid that the two of them were fine and they would see her at Dimitri and Byleth’s wedding next month so she really didn’t have to send him a letter _every single week_ to check in—

— and Lysithea stuck a fork into his mouth as soon as he turned and opened it to say something.

Felix bit down by instinct just as Lysithea pulled the fork away, leaving him with a mouthful of something sweet— sweet but with enough of a kick of spice that it didn’t make him want to spit it right back out.

Lysithea’s baked goods were really the only ones he liked _anyway_ , but this might have been something he would have liked anyway— if he wasn’t being force-fed it by surprise.

He barely resisted the urge to spit it back out, but he _did_ give Lysithea a harsh glare as he chewed and swallowed that didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest.

“Well?” she asked, standing there holding a plate. “It’s an Almyran recipe— a bit less sweet, so not really to my taste, but I thought you might like it more.”

“I suppose it would be nice if you weren’t trying to choke me with it by sticking it down my throat.”

(Felix was even more glad than usual that Sylvain wasn’t hanging around making a nuisance of himself instead of doing his job, because he could practically _hear_ the jokes he would be making if he heard him say something like that, and he had enough on his plate without having to fight the urge to punch Margrave Gautier in the face in order to avoid a ‘diplomatic incident’— although that definitely hadn’t stopped him in the past, and likely wouldn’t do much to stop him in the future.)

Lysithea looked completely unbothered and casually moved in to seat herself daintily in his lap, like she belonged there.

Well, normally Felix wouldn’t debate that, but he hadn’t invited her and he had things to do.

When he opened his mouth to complain, Lysithea filled it with more cake.

“You’ve been working all day,” she said as she set the fork down to reach up and rub a dab of icing away from the corner of his mouth, which she then licked off her own thumb. “Wouldn’t you say it’s time to take a break?”

“You’re one to talk,” Felix said with a ‘hmph’, even as he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from sliding off. “How many times this week _alone_ have I had to drag you away from your research to come to bed?”

“That’s different,” Lysithea said, and then didn’t bother to elaborate, instead feeding him another bite of cake.

He had more or less given in. There were worse things to be distracted by than your lover sitting in your lap feeding you cake. And she had a way of making him cave to her very weird demands far too easily.

“You didn’t give me a real answer,” she said. “Do you like it?”

“It’s… Fine,” he replied, which was not only high praise coming from Felix, but also the only words his brain was willing to provide when he saw the almost devious glint in her eyes.

“Here,” she said, shoving another bite into his mouth before he could protest. “I made it for you, so it would be rude of you to let even a single bite go to waste.”

Felix had never really cared about being rude, but something compelled him to eat what he was offered with minimal complaint.

That was when he should have realized something was wrong, honestly.

When he _actually_ realized something was wrong was around the time he started to sweat. Sure, he had a warm body sitting in his lap now, but it was winter in Faerghus, before the thaw; the sort of weather where you needed two layers of clothes even when you were wrapped in a blanket in front of a roaring fire.

“Lysithea…”

His voice cracked in the middle of her name, but he couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about it, not when he was busy tugging on his collar.

He felt _hot_ — but not the kind of hot you felt when the sun was beating down on you, or when you had been exercising for too long and your muscles were beginning to ache. No, it was the sort of heat that came from within, the same way you would heat up when you were running a fever, or…

Felix snorted, impressed despite himself, even as he felt his face start to burn and the urge well up in him to crawl out of his own skin.

“An Almyran recipe, huh?”

“With a few of my own special touches, of course,” Lysithea replied, shamelessly— almost with pride. “You’ve either been training or working for almost two solid days now. I can appreciate a strong work ethic more than anyone, but… Not when that means ignoring me.”

Felix was acutely aware of the way she adjusted herself on his lap, the press of her backside against his groin in a way that was _absolutely_ deliberate. She fed him another bite of cake while leaning her entire body into his and the feeling of her pressed up against him made his breathing come quick and shallow.

He was painfully warm, like he had spent too long in a sauna. He started unbuttoning his collar.

Lysithea lifted herself from his lap, but the reprieve was short-lived, as she did so only long enough to adjust herself and swing one leg over so that she was straddling him rather than sitting side-saddle in his lap. She fed him another bite of cake automatically, then reached back to blindly set the plate on his desk.

She went to lick off a daub of icing that she had gotten on her thumb, looking almost kittenish in the process as she looked at him with big pink eyes and a mischievous smile.

Through the sudden fog, Felix realized he was _painfully_ hard.

“Is it so wrong for me to want a bit of attention?”

She pouted when she said it, which was either her attempt at seduction or just her being adorable without even realizing it, both of which he probably would have made some kind of comment on— a little bit fondness, a little bit mockery, all rolled up in its usual Felix bow— if not for the fact that the only thing he could focus on at the moment was the feeling of her soft thighs against his lap or the heat of her breath against his face as she leaned in, one hand pressed against his chest and the other going around to play with the hair at the base of his neck.

Felix felt like he had a lot of willpower, but all of it was crumbling. He leaned back in his chair and let the heat wash over him, unable to do anything else. At least Lysithea was starting to unbutton his shirt, which was helping to relieve the heat at least a _little_.

His hands both went to cup her ass, giving it a tight squeeze. Well, she _did_ say she wanted his attention, right?

The only problem was that she was going far too slow. He felt like he was going to melt in his seat, and he was finding it almost hard to breathe, and he was so hard he could feel himself straining against his trousers. He thrust his hips upwards, trying to get some measure of friction to relieve some of the tension, but the angle Lysithea had to be at to straddle him comfortably put her out of his reach without knocking her off balance.

Well, he had a solution to both of those problems.

The grip he had on her ass slid downwards until he was cupping the back of her thighs more than anything, and while Lysithea was distracted undoing the fastenings of his shirt, he casually stood up and lifted her in one smooth motion.

Lysithea yelped and immediately grabbed his shirt to keep from toppling over, but he didn’t give her a moment to adjust and was already sweeping over from his desk to his bed halfway across the room. He gracelessly tossed her onto it, chuckling at the way she bounced and glared up at him.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to complain right now,” he reminded her, because his skin felt like it was on fire and it was her fault, and she snorted through her nose at him but was already shrugging out of her shawl and kicking her shoes across the room even as he ripped his shirt off over his head with no patience for the fastenings.

The cool air on his bare chest and back was an immense relief, but an even bigger relief came when he unlaced his trousers and shoved them and his smallclothes down his hips, allowing his cock to spring free.

He took himself in hand and gave himself a few quick pumps just to relieve the ache and terrible pressure, shivering at the difference in temperature between his heated cock and the cold room. He was already dripping with precum and they hadn’t even gotten _started_ yet. He didn’t imagine he was going to last long— but knowing Lysithea, she had already planned ahead for that.

What she hadn’t planned for, clearly, was his impatience, because she was still squirming out of her dress by the time he had kicked his pants off.

In a normal situation, he might have called her slow, or swatted her hands away and told her to let him take care of it if she was going to waste his time.

What he did instead was grab her leggings just as she was working her dress off over her head and pull them so hard they tore right from her body.

Lysithea let out another squeak at the sound of tearing fabric, and as soon as she squirmed out of her dress she glared up at him.

“You’re replacing those!” she said firmly.

“You can write me a bill,” he said as he grabbed the waistband of her panties.

He _could_ have just pulled them down her legs, but she _had_ fed him drugged cake, and so he wasn’t feeling especially kind or generous at the moment. Even if they _were_ very nice panties and he felt a _little_ guilty about—

Well, literally ripping them right off her body and tossing them aside.

“Felix!” Lysithea glared up at him and he couldn’t help but laugh at her pout, and then laughed more at the high-pitched squeak she let out when he cupped his hands under her ass and pulled her up, hooking her legs over his shoulders.

“You wanted me to eat,” he said, and before she could give him Hell about saying something so cheesy (and before he could start to care that he had fed her such a line), he leaned in to lick a long stripe up her pussy from hole to clit.

The taste of her was familiar and far sweeter than any dessert she could have offered him, as was the noise she made as soon as his tongue touched her. She was already so soaking wet she was _dripping_ , and he felt her thighs clench around his head as he sank his tongue into her.

He took his sweet time, fucking his tongue into her, listening to her broken moans and feeling her squirm— although she couldn’t do much from the position he had her in, since she didn’t have the leverage. She surprised him enough simply by bucking up against his face, trying to grind her clit against his nose just to get that friction.

“Nnnn— Feliiiix,” she moaned, and he couldn’t resist smirking against her cunt as she gushed against his tongue and squirmed.

He wanted to hear her _beg_ , after she had force fed him drugged cake just to get his attention, the little minx. Wanted her to feel every bit as desperate as he did.

Wanted it badly enough to ignore how his cock throbbed and was leaking so much precum he was dripping onto the sheets, and how his skin felt so hot it was practically burning even completely exposed to the cool air.

Felix twisted his tongue inside of her, tasting, mapping out the soft ridges of her pussy with his tongue, going out of his way not to touch her where she wanted to be touched. Not until he heard the magic word.

“ _Felix_ ,” she gasped, her voice nothing more than a breath, and he felt her thighs squeezing tightly around his head as she tried to urge him on.

He looked at her with sharp eyes as he slowly pulled his tongue out of her and pulled back, a long string of slick connecting his mouth to her folds even as he licked his lips to savour her taste.

“Beg,” he said, his own voice hoarse and in no better condition, and as their eyes met he could _see_ the defiance draining out of hers as she weighed the pros and cons.

It wasn’t much, but he felt like he at least regained _some_ of the upper hand when she looked away, bit her lip while worrying it between her teeth like she often did when she was thinking _particularly_ hard about something, then looked back at him and said, “ _Please_.”

Felix smirked just before he pressed the flat of his tongue teasingly against her throbbing clit, but when she gasped loudly and thrust her hips up as best she could when he was holding them so high above the bed, he forced down the urge to laugh at her and instead devoted himself _entirely_ to his task.

If Lysithea wanted his attention so badly, then by the Goddess, she was going to get it.

Felix had to wonder whether Lysithea had really thought her clever little plan through.

Obviously a great deal of planning had to go into it— she had to make a cake, one which he would actually eat (and though hers were the only cakes he would eat, he still avoided sweets for the most part), that would also disguise the taste of whatever she had put in it to make him end up— like _this_ , and she had to make sure it was safe, although safe was sort of relative…

She was smart, no doubt about that. And he had _never_ doubted that. But he wasn’t quite sure where her common sense had gotten to when she had been planning this.

Of course, those were all big questions for him to be wondering about, and absolutely none of them were on his mind at that second as he thrust into her slow and deep.

“Felix…”

“Almost…”

One word at a time was basically all either of them could manage. They were both lying on their sides, Felix with one hand keeping Lysithea’s hip lifted and another keeping her leg lifted and spread, Lysithea reaching behind herself to grip his hair hard enough to make his scalp ache.

It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable or convenient position, but they were both so completely exhausted that it was all they could manage. And considering they’d been through roughly a dozen other positions, Felix could say that almost with certainty.

He removed his hand from Lysithea’s hip and moved to rub her clit in almost frantic circles, determined to get her off before his own impending peak.

Lysithea squirmed and keened in a way that she probably would have been embarrassed about if they weren’t both so completely past the point of embarrassment, or even anything other than an almost animalistic urge to _rut_.

Felix didn’t stop touching her even as her squirming turned to shaking, kept up his touch even as he felt her tense up and clench around him, took almost as much pleasure in listening to her breathy high-pitched moan as she toppled over the edge as he did in thrusting as deeply into her as he could and finally giving in to his own orgasm with an animalistic keen that he was far, _far_ too gone to be embarrassed about.

For a few long moments, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing, Felix panting against the crook between Lysithea’s neck and shoulder, which was already starting to turn purple with several clear tooth marks where he had bitten down on it earlier. He let himself go soft inside of her as he caught his breath, and she whimpered as he pulled out, which covered up his own whimper…

He looked down to see his cum seeping out of her and onto her thigh. Not surprising, considering how many times he had released inside of her— there was no way her body could hold all of it.

Her pussy was violently red, almost purple, and swollen from the abuse— he felt a twinge of guilt at that, but really, it had been her fault, and she had never tried to stop him, even when every time he touched her she started to whimper from oversensitivity…

Not to mention the fact that his dick felt _raw_ from the fact that they had been constantly fucking for the past several _hours_ as he forced himself through oversensitvity because his body just _would not cool down_ , thanks to whatever it was she had put in that cake she had force-fed him.

So yeah, his sympathy only went so far. They would both recover.

“Felix,” she whined, her voice so much more broken than when she had cried out his name as she came against his tongue the first time, and then again as he powered her through a second orgasm while he humped and came all over the sheets in an attempt to get even the slightest bit of relief.

The smart thing to do would be to get up and clean up at least a little bit; the sheets were a mess, as were the two of them. Felix had been sweating the entire time, and now that he didn’t feel like he’d been sitting in a sauna for an entire day, that sweat was cooling against his skin and leaving him to shiver in the cold Faerghus air.

Lysithea was looking up at him almost pleadingly, though, and he was pretty sure neither of them had the energy to get up and do much about it. And he sure as Hell wasn’t going to call a servant in to help; he still had _some_ pride, after all.

Oh well. They would live. He stripped off the worst soiled parts of their sheets (despite Lysithea’s protests as he shoved her around almost carelessly to do so) and pulled the closest clean blanket he could find over them, wrapping an arm around Lysithea’s waist to pull her in close.

Ugh, they really _were_ both a complete mess— unpleasantly sticky in ways that he had never felt before. Felix could feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck, and even though he was starting to get cold, the heat coming off of Lysithea was almost too much.

When she sighed and curled back against him, paying particularly close attention to not letting the bottom halves of their bodies where they were both still ridiculously oversensitive, though, he knew he wasn’t going to move away. Just like how he wasn’t going to complain about the cake thing.

He really _was_ too soft when it came to her…

He would have plenty of time to bemoan that, though. Right now, the only thing on his mind was rest, and even with Lysithea feeling stifling against him, having his face pressed into the crook of her neck and smelling the floral scent of her soap mixed with sex and sweat was the best way he could imagine falling asleep.

Even if he was going to go back on that ‘no complaining’ thing the moment they woke up.


	3. food on body

Felix didn’t care much for sweets, except for the ones Lysithea made, although he strongly suspected that had less to do with the sweets and more to do with Lysithea. There _were_ a few things he didn’t mind, though— honey, for one, which he always used in the few teas that he didn’t like the taste of plain.

And Lysithea always enjoyed _experimenting_ when she managed to hook on something he actually enjoyed.

“And this one—” Lysithea dipped the spoon into another small jar she had sitting on the table, and let him watch the honey drizzle off the edge. “Is arbutus honey. It is made only from one particular tree in Dagda. Most people find the flavour a bit intense, but as it is rather bitter, I thought you might enjoy it.”

And how was Lysithea having him _experiment_ with the various honeys she had laid out for him? Was she letting him try it on his own? No, of course not. Was she feeding it to him by the spoonful, in that saccharine way couples did that had always annoyed Felix but which didn’t seem so bad when he was on the receiving end? No.

Lysithea had opted for a third option, one which Felix was enjoying _far_ more and at the same time he found _infinitely_ more embarrassing.

“Here,” she said, stirring the spoon in the jar a bit before tilting it to level it off, then lifting it out of the jar. “Try some.”

Lysithea titled the spoon and drizzled the honey across her bare chest.

Felix swallowed heavily as he watched the thick and surprisingly cloudy dark golden honey fall in slow rivulets down her breasts. One of the trails came tantalizingly close to a hardened nipple before Lysithea, at the last moment, swept it up with one finger that she popped into her mouth and sucked on in a way that was both almost hilariously over the top and completely, absolutely working.

Felix tried to breathe deeply through his nose to calm himself down. He also knew it wouldn’t work at all. He was straining against his breeches and whether that was because of the sight before him, or the feeling of Lysithea’s soft skin under his hands while she was bare and straddling his lap (and he was still fully clothed), or the way she was looking down at him and batting nearly translucent eyelashes at him, he couldn’t say.

It was probably all of the above, but his brain wasn’t working well enough to say _any_ of them.

It _did_ work well enough that when Lysithea looked at him and said, “Well? Aren’t you going to have a taste?”, there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation before he leaned in and dragged his tongue across her chest.

He started at her collarbone, where the honey had pooled the most. The taste was sweet, but not too sweet, and it turned bitter in his mouth, but not unpleasantly so— like very dark chocolate or a particularly pungent tea.

Felix couldn’t care less about the way it tasted. It could have been so sweet it made him feel sick to his stomach and he would have licked up every last drop.

He followed the trail the honey had made for him down her chest, going out of his way to avoid getting anywhere near her nipple; it took every ounce of self control that he had, but since Lysithea had gone out of her way to keep the honey from dripping that far, she had no one but herself to blame when he changed course at the last minute to follow the trail it wound down the divot between her breasts, catching the end of a fat drop before it reached her belly button.

If asked to list all of the things he loved about Lysithea, Felix would probably give whoever was asking him to do something stupid like that a good smack upside the head. But if for some reason he decided to do it anyway, like maybe _he_ had gotten hit in the head recently, it would be a very long list that he would never share with anyone, and one of the things on that list would be the way she somehow managed to orchestrate situations that were supposed to completely wreck him and ended up completely wrecking herself in the process.

A perfect example of that was the fact that, despite her being in perfect control just moments ago while Felix was practically shaking with want, now Lysithea was shivering and panting, and that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature.

Felix would have been happy to completely turn the situation on her, which he was practically convinced was what she wanted, but there was one small problem: his hands were _very_ well tied to the chair he was sitting on.

Lysithea’s chest was heaving as he trailed the very tip of his tongue back up her chest to get the last few smears of honey that he had left behind. Her nails dug into his shoulders in a way he was sure would leave marks; if his own had been free, aside from a few _other_ things he could think of that he would like to be doing with his hands, he would almost certainly be gripping her hips to the point of leaving bruises.

It was rare that either of them were without marks left by the other. First they had gotten very good at hiding it from curious eyes; then they had gotten very good at not caring about whether or not anyone saw.

He took his sweet time licking up the last of the honey, looking up at her through dark lashes. Her eyes were screwed shut as she tried to hold onto the last of her careful self-control, but just like her maturity had always crumbled in the face of an offer of sweets, so did her dominating side crumble in the face of a carefully planned assault on her chest— just enough to tease, not enough to give her what she wanted, and with only herself to blame for not having hands on her in all of the places she craved.

Felix loved Lysithea. Adored her, even. But Felix would never stop being a competitive bastard until the day he died, and a petty one at that.

When she _did_ crack her eyes open enough to look down at him, her face flushing and her body starting to shake, he raised an eyebrow just enough to catch her attention before latching onto a random patch of skin between her collarbone and breast and _biting_.

It wasn’t a _gentle_ bite— it would bruise, certainly, but that was half teeth and half because of latching on good and proper to _suck_ a bruise into her skin.

Lysithea still tasted like honey.

He could certainly see himself getting a taste for it, if this was how Lysithea was planning on feeding it to him.

“Felix,” Lysithea said in what he guessed was supposed to be her best ‘intimidating growl’, based on the scowl she was giving him and the way her nails dug into him even harder (which made him moan into her clavicle), but which was sort of ruined by the way her voice hitched and pitched up in an adorable sort of way.

He looked up at her again, waiting to see what she was going to do, nibbling at the red mark he’d left which he knew was going to turn a beautiful purple soon, with perfect indents of his teeth.

Felix had gotten good at figuring out exactly how to leave marks that would last for a good, _long_ time. Of course, it was only because he liked to give as good as he got— and when he spent _days_ after a night with Lysithea wincing at the way his shirt would drag over the furrows her nails would leave in his back, he wanted to know she had just as clear a reminder of him.

“You were right,” he said, not even trying to keep the teasing lilt out of his voice. “That _is_ delicious.”

He fully expected one of two reactions— either Lysithea would be so far gone she was more than willing to break character and untie him, or she hadn’t quite reached that point yet and she would dole out some kind of ‘punishment’, if not for the teasing (she had brought that on herself, after all) then for the bite. Given the situation, he was guessing it would be something along the lines of leaving him tied to the chair while she retreated to the bed and got herself off in plain view of him, while he couldn’t touch either her or himself.

Of course, Lysithea had always specialized in surprising him.

“Felix,” she said more firmly, with the conviction he was sure she was trying for the first time— aided by her nails leaving his shoulder (and leaving it stinging in their wake— he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d managed to draw blood this time) and her fingers digging into his hair, giving it a harsh enough pull to make him tip his head back and expose his throat. “I gave you a treat, and that’s how you behave?”

She was sitting up on her knees now, removing the pleasant warmth of her in his lap (and the growing wetness against him that he couldn’t help but notice, though she had carefully kept it away from his crotch so he couldn’t rut up against her) so she could loom over him and look him directly in the eye.

Felix looked up at her, wondering if she truly expected him to _apologize._ Did she even know him at all?

“I _should_ punish you for getting carried away like that,” she said, frowning at him in a way that he only barely resisted the urge to laugh at— it was so adorable when she tried to pretend she was scary instead of cute (even though he had seen her on the battlefield and knew for a fact that she could be absolutely terrifying when she wanted to be). He knew if he laughed, though, she would tip right over into the ‘punishment’ side and he wouldn’t ever know what _else_ she apparently had planned for him. “But after you were mean enough to tease me like that, I think I have a much better use for you.”

“Do you now?” Curiosity was getting the better of him, but never let it be said that Felix Hugo Fraldarius turned his nose up at a chance to be a brat. Lysithea narrowed her eyes at him.

“Maybe I need to make one small adjustment first,” she said, and climbed out of his lap.

The only part of him that was restrained at all were his hands, which were tied expertly to the wooden struts that made up the back of the chair he kept at his desk. He otherwise had free range of movement, but he still felt the struggle as he tried to turn his head to follow her movements around the room.

Against his better judgement, his curiosity was starting to get the better of him as he wondered what she was planning. Lysithea always had the most unique ideas, and he did love a challenge; he delighted in screwing with her carefully made plans and really throwing her off her game. All in good fun, of course.

(And, though he would never admit it out loud, maybe he liked having her put him in his place— just a _little_.)

He craned his neck to see her as best he could, and so he could watch her as she rummaged through a drawer. He was no Sylvain, but— well, he was only human, and what human wouldn’t be at least a _little_ intrigued by the sight of their wife bending over naked while she dug around for something, especially after that human had just licked honey off of her tits? And the wife in question had such a cute, pert ass?

He was sure she would forgive him.

He continued to watch with interest as she found what she had been looking for with a little noise of triumph— a length of cloth that had been carefully knotted in the middle, wrapped around over and over again, to make a tight ball just smaller than an egg.

“If all you’re going to do with your mouth is tease and make smart remarks, it would be better for me to just stop it up.”

Lysithea walked back around to stand in front of him and proudly show him what she had been looking for.

The sight of his naked wife standing in front of him holding a gag while he was still fully clothed and tied to a chair made his cock throb _painfully_ where it was trapped in his trousers.

She climbed right back into his lap like she was perfectly at home there, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and wiggling to make herself comfortable in a way that would have made him thrust his hips up if he hadn’t been sure that would have made her fall right back off the chair— and as amusing as that might have been, that wouldn’t have ended well for _anyone_.

“You remember the signal, yes?” she asked as she held the gag up for his inspection.

“Three stomps if we need to stop,” Felix repeated dutifully, because he might have liked causing problems on purpose, this was no laughing matter. Lysithea wouldn’t continue if he didn’t.

“And if I put my fingers in your hand?”

“Squeeze them if I’m okay to continue,” he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He knew it was important; they had just gone over it so many times it felt rote at this point.

“Good boy.”

And hearing _that_ come out of her mouth made his cock throb _again_.

He was going to ruin these pants at this rate.

She tilted Felix’s chin up, pinched his jaw with her long delicate fingers in _just_ the right places to get him to open his mouth nice and wide so she could slide the ball into his mouth, settling it behind his teeth and guiding him to close his mouth around it.

It was easy on his mouth without being _too_ soft, and wasn’t big enough to risk him choking. It also wasn’t the most exciting gag they had (and he had just decided then and there that Sylvain was never, _ever_ coming into his room because if he discovered that Felix owned _more than one_ and that he had _favourites_ , he would never hear the end of it and then he would have to kill his best friend just for some peace and quiet), but then, it _was_ a last minute decision…

Lysithea carefully tied the gag behind his head, careful to avoid getting his hair caught in the knot that she tied nice and tight to make sure it wouldn’t come undone until it had very much served its purpose. When she was done, she put a hand almost mockingly gently on the side of Felix’s jaw to guide him to tilt his head left and right so she could get a proper good look at her handiwork. He glared at her out of the corner of his eyes, but didn’t resist, and was even _glad_ for the gag when she took her hand away from his face and it helped hold back an involuntary whimper.

Goddess, he’d gotten weak. Incredibly, frustratingly weak for the woman in his lap, and he could only put up a token resistance by acting like a brat, and even then he wasn’t sure he wasn’t just as weak for when she inevitably _punished_ him.

He was doomed, basically. Sylvain would probably quip about there being worse ways to go just before he punched him.

“There,” Lysithea said triumphantly, clearly satisfied with her work as she squirmed in his lap to make herself comfortable, which wasn’t doing anything good for his trouser situation. “Let this be a lesson; if you’re just going to waste a perfectly talented mouth like that, then you’re just going to have to make due without it.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t receive any further ‘punishment’ for his attitude because Lysithea wasn’t looking him in the face; her attention was focused on his lap, on bucking and rolling her hips back and forth in careful, precise motions, so her swollen clit bumped against the bulge of his still-trapped cock and her wet cunt leaked across his trousers to ease the motions, reduce the friction.

If _he_ didn’t end up ruining his pants, _she_ probably would.

The teasing, though, was driving him mad— the fact that he was tied up, still clothed, while she rutted against him for her own pleasure, and he couldn’t even touch her?

He let out a muffled grown of frustration as she ground down against him.

“And this is why we don’t tease,” she said smugly, and he glared at her, and she just smiled back, pleased as peaches. “So why don’t you just sit there and maybe if you’re good I’ll let you have another treat.”

He might have laughed about how cheesy that sounded, like Lysithea was reading it right out of one of the “romance novels” that mysteriously kept finding their way into his library, except he couldn’t do much laughing as it was _and_ she picked that moment to reach down and untie the laces of his breeches.

She took her _agonizingly_ sweet time with it, but that was the point, wasn’t it? To tease him like he’d teased her? Although this went _well_ beyond what he had done, and he didn’t really think it was fair—

And then he wasn’t really thinking at all, just letting out a half-sob around the weight in his mouth as his pants and underclothes were _finally_ tugged down, freeing his aching cock.

“You’ve made quite a mess,” Lysithea hummed as she took it in an achingly light grasp— two fingers and her thumb, wrapped tantalizingly around his length and dragging up and down, light and slow, too light, too _slow_. He couldn’t even buck his hips up— that would undoubtedly send Lysithea right to the floor, and then he was sure he’d see the _real_ punishment, where she left him tied to the chair aching and wanting and cursing—

His cock twitched heavily in her hand as she ran the pad of her thumb over his slit, spreading around the precum that had gathered there to make it easier for her to touch him.

“Be good while I satisfy myself,” she said, a command that one part of him wanted to fight back against, pull at the bindings around his wrists until they came apart and he could pick her up off his lap and toss her tiny body down onto the bed and slide right in between her legs to fuck his tongue into her and suck on her clit until she was screaming, show her that he could satisfy her better than she could ever satisfy herself using his body—

And one part of him wanted to just sit back and _take_ , be a good boy who would get a special treat, let his mind go completely blank until he was little more than a sex toy for her personal use, but she would take good care of him, like she always did, no one could take care of him like Lysithea did, even when she was using him—

And then both of those parts promptly shut the fuck up when Lysithea canted her hips forward to grind her bare pussy against his cock, rolling her hips to grind her clit against him like he was just something for her to rub herself off against, and then further forward until her wet, hot folds around him and his head poking at her entrance.

She stayed like that for a moment, not specifically to torment him, just to shift her knees to get herself comfortable and make sure she wasn’t going to fall right off the chair, and still it was enough to make him seriously reconsider his stance on thrusting his hips, if he meant he could get closer to that _heat_.

Thankfully, Lysithea took pity on him— or maybe she was just chasing her own pleasure, but either way, he let out an almost pathetic shuddering whine that even the gag in his mouth couldn’t muffle completely when she firmly planted her knees on either side of his hips and sank down onto his cock.

He was almost glad he was gagged (it wasn’t the being gagged part he enjoyed, it was knowing how much control Lysithea had over him, not that he would ever admit it) because that meant his own half-sobbing moan of relief didn’t completely drown out the soft sigh-whimper Lysithea let out, which he adored the sound of, because even more than him Lysithea hated showing even the smallest measure of weakness…

“Haa… Very good…” Lysithea’s breathy voice was music to his ears as she ground her hips down on him, having taken him all the way to the base in one go— she was obviously just as eager and impatient as he was.

Felix tilted his head back and swallowed the saliva that was building up around the gag, then let out another low groan. Really, he was all talk right up until this moment— cocky and collected until his desperation won over and the wet, tight heat of Lysithea’s pussy banished any thought from his mind other than his desperate need to cum.

Lysithea was moving far too slowly, raising herself up halfway and sinking back down, but the way she rolled her hips and bit her lower lip and _moaned_ almost managed to make up for it.

Almost.

She chanced moving one hand from where she was using it to steady herself using his shoulder, gripping even more tightly with the other one to compensate until Felix swore that even through his thick shirt he could feel her nails digging into him, so she could reach down between them to rub at her clit as she pistoned and rolled her hips. She whimpered at the contact and started up a frantic pace that had Felix’s mouth watering— obviously the teasing had worked her up even more than he had thought, because he knew from the way she was moving, the way her legs were shaking, and the noises falling from her mouth that she was close…

“Fe—- lix!” The hitch of her voice as she said his name and the gasp that went along with it came just a moment before _she_ did, her orgasm crashing into her the way a wave might, the way it always did— she tensed up, her nails digging into him even more tightly and her legs squeezing around him, cunt fluttering and clenching around him, her mouth falling into a perfect ‘O’ shape…

She slumped forward against him, little wiggles of her hips as she clenched around him milking the last of her own orgasm, but it wasn’t _enough_ — he felt like he was just on the edge, but even with the tantalizing heat around him, it was just too slow, too much of a tease…

And then she raised her hips and slipped off of him completely, and it was so much worse.

Felix couldn’t stop himself from bucking his hips up to try and chase after her, wouldn’t have been able to resist _begging_ if it wasn’t for the knot of fabric in his mouth turning everything that tried to come out of it into a garbled, muffled mess, but Lysithea was _gone_ and he was tied to the chair and couldn’t _do_ anything, and he was too far into desperation to be mad about that quite yet but the frustration was building…

“Felix…” Lysithea was panting, her face flushed a deep red, her hair completely out of sorts. If he’d had his hands free he would have happily tossed her to the bed, watched it fan out across the dark sheets before he leaned in to capture her in a sloppy kiss and _ravished_ her, hardly giving her time to recover from her first orgasm before mercilessly pushing her towards a second—

Instead those thoughts fled his mind in an instance when Lysithea, having caught her breath, gave her head a shake and told him with a firm expression, “Have you learned nothing? Sit still and be a _good boy_ and _perhaps_ I’ll give you a treat.”

Any thought of mocking her for her tone or, Goddess forbid, _not listening_ were out of his head in an instant. For all of the fight he put up, the challenges and the way he almost _dared_ Lysithea to punish him, it was all for this— these moments when she, without really having to even _do_ anything, broke him down to the part of himself that just wanted to be called her _good boy_ and do whatever it took to please her, whatever it took to get her to _reward_ him.

So, while he took a sharp breath and let the start of a high-pitched pathetic whine slip out before he could stop it, he didn’t squirm or thrust his hips when she slid off his lap completely to stand on shaky legs in front of him, looking him up and down like she was considering her next move.

Felix knew, even through the cloud of desperate arousal, that he must have been just as much of a mess as she was, if not more. He was panting harshly around the gag in his mouth, sweat was making his hair stick to the back of his neck where Lysithea pulling at it had made it start to come out of its tie, and even though he was still wearing his clothes while he was still wearing clothes to her complete nudity, he was dully aware that that might actually be a point in her favour— while her rosy-pale skin was shining with sweat in the dull light of the room and he could still see the shiny trails where he had licked the honey from her chest, he was an absolute _mess_ , his shirt rumpled from her gripping at his shoulders, the front of his pants stained where he had leaked precum into them before she had finally seen fit to undress him even a little bit…

If anyone else saw what Lysithea could do to him, the way she was able to… To _tame_ him with even the slightest bit of effort, he would never live it down. Not that he intended to ever let anyone but her see him this way. It was a little embarrassing having _her_ see him like this, even when he was too far gone to really feel embarrassed, or anything other than needy. Someone else seeing him would be _mortifying_. He wasn’t sure he would survive the ordeal— they certainly wouldn’t.

“I suppose you’ve been good, if a bit… _Overeager_.” Lysithea smiled at him, sweeping her hair back and out of her face, tucking it behind her ears so it wouldn’t get in the way of their activities. Even such a small thing was enough to have Felix squirming in his seat, because it meant that they weren’t done yet… “If I remove your gag, are you going to continue to behave? No more being rude or ungrateful?”

If he were in any other state he would have likely made some ‘rude’ quip in response to that, but that was the power of Lysithea; instead, he just nodded his head wildly while making incoherent noises around the gag, trying to say that he would be good, please…

Either she understood or she just decided to finally take pity on him— either way, she reached up to tug at the knot at the back of the gag, the silk sliding apart easily as she eased it out of his mouth and used her other hand to reach up and massage his jaw. The gag hadn’t been big enough to really cause him discomfort, but it was part of their whole ritual, the way she would gently undo any bonds and massage whatever part of him had been bound up…

She set the gag aside and climbed back into his lap. Felix fought the urge to thrust upwards as he licked his dry lips, leaning forward so he could mouth at the nearest available skin, just pressing open mouthed kisses and licks— he wanted to bite down, but he was being _good_.

“I think you have earned that treat I mentioned,” she said with a pleased hum, one of her hands gently caressing the back of his head. Her fingers caught in his useless hair tie and she pulled it out completely, running her fingers through his hair.

His hair tie went to the side just like the gag, but she also reached for something else— the jar of honey and the accompanying spoon that she had left sitting on the table to his left. His eyes followed the jar hungrily, not for its contents, but…

“You’ve earned a second chance,” she said simply, as she lifted the spoon from the thick, dark honey and began to drizzle it over her chest, just as she had done at the beginning of… All of _this_. It fell in the same tantalizing cascades over her perky breasts, and then she kept drizzling, until he almost wanted to chide her for making a mess of herself like a child— if he hadn’t been fully aware that would result in her storming off and leaving him there wanting until he just couldn’t take it anymore.

He might have been lost in a submissive, horny haze, but he wasn’t _stupid_.

Instead he licked his lips again, feeling his mouth going dry and his cock throbbing at the sight of the rivers of golden brown cascading down until this time they trailed right over a perky nipple.

“Don’t let your treat go to waste, Felix,” she said— and that was all he needed.

He dipped his head forward and immediately went to the task of licking up the honey. He started again at her clavicle, where the honey was pooling and slowly dipping downwards, but compared to when they had first done this he was _desperate_. His tongue dragged across her skin flat and covering as much area as he possibly could, stopping and sucking at the ridge of her breastbone before dipping his head lower.

He didn’t even _taste_ the honey— he only tasted _her_.

Lysithea let out a whimper that made his cock throb again, and this time he had no desire to tease her like he did before— both because he had no desire to prolong his own pleasure, and because he wanted to hear more of those noises.

He dipped his head down even further and, without hesitation, took one of her nipples into his mouth.

He wasn’t even paying attention to the honey at all; he was sure they were both an absolute mess, and he could feel his face and mouth getting sticky from the honey he was smearing around. But he didn’t care at all about that. All he cared about was feeling the way her nipple stiffened in his mouth, tracing every bump and ridge with the tip of his tongue, hearing the way her breath hitched when he scraped his teeth just so, and the full on gasp when he bit down just hard enough to leave her with an imprint of his teeth that he hoped would bruise so he could see it on her again and again— 

“G-good… Good boy…” Lysithea’s words were more breath than voice, but his head was a roaring inferno regardless— and when she reached down between them to wrap her delicate hand around his cock, brushing her thumb across the head to collect the precum that was pooling there, suddenly there was no room in his head for anything at all except the feeling of her hand.

He bucked up into her touch, that restrained part of him having flown out the window, but he kept his focus on sucking on her tits— he switched from one to the other, biting and sucking hungrily in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the honey, wishing he had a hand free so he could play with the one he _didn’t_ have his mouth on.

Lysithea didn’t scold him for being overeager or not being able to restrain himself; she simply let out a moan that shook him right to his core, that had _always_ done that no matter how many times he heard her make that same sound, and pumped her hand faster. There was no teasing in her movements; apparently, he had earned his _proper_ reward.

“Oh, Felix…” Hearing her say his name like that was far sweeter than anything she could have been feeding him. Funny how all the ridiculous things Sylvain had always said about women their entire lives suddenly made sense when Felix applied them to _her_ , instead of the usual airheads Sylvain had spent most of their teenage years chasing around.

(Not that Felix really made a habit of thinking about his longtime best friend while he was having sex with his wife. At least, he told himself that.)

Lysithea’s other hand came up to cup the back of his head, holding him where she wanted him, and he had no complaints. Besides, he knew better than to think he was going to be able to hold off much longer; she had driven him to the brink before denying him his release, and bringing him back there was taking no effort at all…

“There you go,” he heard Lysithea say when his cock twitched heavily in her hand and leaked precum all over her, even though he was so focused on her tits and his own pleasure that everything sort of sounded like he was hearing it while his head was underwater. “You can let go…”

And that was all he needed— he came so hard his vision swam, and he let out a long, deep groan that was muffled by the way he had latched onto her tit and was digging his teeth into the soft flesh so hard he was surprised he didn’t break the skin—

And then, after a long peak, it was over. He loosened his jaw and pressed a few comforting kisses to Lysithea’s abused chest, apologizing, though he considered it her own fault anyway— she knew what to expect when she got him so riled up, and she knew exactly how to stop him, too.

Once the euphoria had faded, every bone in his body felt suddenly limp, a chill rolled over him from the sweat that was cooling on his skin under his clothes, and he was acutely aware of his fingertips starting to go numb.

Still, he didn’t want to move just yet— even if he was exhausted and sticky. And even though Lysithea was even stickier and no doubt even more exhausted, she didn’t move to get off of him either, instead leaning forward so she was resting against his chest.

“Do you want me to—” He would have gestured downwards if his hands had been free. “Help?”

She’d already gotten off once, but offering seemed— polite. Especially since, for all his complaints, he’d… Enjoyed it, to say the least.

“Nph,” Lysithea said less than eloquently into his shoulder. Then, with a bit more enunciation, she lifted her head just enough to say, “Not right now, thank you. Maybe I’ll take you up on that after I’ve had a bath, and a nap.”

She looked down at where her chest was still smeared with half licked up honey, the rest of which she was now smearing all over the front of his shirt. Oh well; considering the rest of him was covered in sweat and cum and Goddess only knew what else, his clothes were going to need washed anyway.

“Bath first,” she declared with a nod, even as she lifted a hand to cover her mouth from a yawn. “Are you going to join me?”

“If you untie me,” he reminded her with a snort, already feeling more like his usual self, the horny fog lifting from his brain. Lysithea rolled her eyes at him even as she climbed off his lap and back onto her shaky legs.

“So demanding,” she said teasingly as she went around behind him to loose the knots keeping him tied to the chair. “Now, get undressed. If you’re quick about it, I’ll massage your rope marks while the tub fills.”

As he started massaging his hands himself, trying to regain feeling in his numbing fingertips, Felix found he had nothing snarky to say to that, no complaint to make— so as Lysithea retreated, naked, towards their bathroom? He merely chuckled, rose from his seat, and followed— wondering if ‘later’ was going to be in the tub ten minutes from now.


	4. hand feeding / stuffing

Being a duke was difficult work. Felix wondered where all of those stories about corrupt nobles sitting on their asses while enjoying their wealth had come from, and more important, how exactly one went about achieving a position like that. Because it felt like every time he so much as sneezed, there was a new pile of letters that needed to be answered, or a new batch of paperwork that needed to be filled out, or he had to traipse halfway across his territory to deal with some situation or another.

Right now, the situation he was dealing with was Dimitri and Sylvain’s engagement feast.

If someone asked him, he couldn’t answer how they— or more specifically, _Sylvain_ — had roped him into something like that. It had been something involving reminding him that he was their dearest and oldest friend (“Why can’t Ingrid do it?” “Ingrid’s already doing a lot more for the wedding than you are, Fe, _and_ she has like the most boring house. Even Dorothea’s sense of style can’t save that place.”) and about how it was a noble’s duty to lavish their king with gifts and celebrations for their marriage (“And since when have I ever given a damn about a _noble’s duty_ , Sylvain?” “Come ooooon, Felix, it’s just the one thing! Just do it to be a good friend! You want to be a good friend, right?”) and now here he was, overseeing preparations to have an entire swarm of people— some he knew and liked, some he knew and hated, and some he didn’t know at all— practically infesting his house for a big, elaborate dinner.

He’d made the decision that Sylvain and Dimitri were not allowed to question him being a good friend ever again.

So, he was spending his time being pulled in a dozen different directions. Even though he wasn’t exactly a paragon of wisdom when it came to throwing parties, or food, or anything of that nature, everyone needed his opinion on everything and no one would make a decision unless it had been run by him at least three different times.

If he had to spend _one more_ evening taste-testing soups that all tasted the _fucking same_ so he could throw a party for a man who couldn’t even _taste anything_ —

Fortunately, there was one member of House Fraldarius who _did_ know what they were doing— and seemed happy enough to do so.

“Yes, we should certainly use the teal table dressings.”

“T-teal, Lady Fraldarius? Not the royal blue?”

“The royal blue is nice, certainly, but the teal was a gift from House Gautier. It’ll be a good way to acknowledge Margrave Gautier when most people will probably be focused on the king. And Dimitri will certainly appreciate it.”

“Of course, your ladyship.”

Lysithea was practically buzzing with energy, and she was completely in her element as the lady of the house— having everyone look to her for the final say and absolutely no one treating her like she was a child, or didn’t know what she was talking about.

“I’m glad _someone_ is enjoying all of this nonsense,” he said, walking up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist as the servants scurried off to do whatever it was she had just told them to do— he had already forgotten. “Personally, I can’t wait to have the whole damned thing over with.”

“Aren’t you happy for your friends?” Lysithea asked, surprisingly not scolding— in fact, she still sounded perfectly pleased, and even leaned back against his chest. If anything, she just sounded curious.

“You know I am,” he replied. “I just don’t see why I have to host some damned stuffy dinner party for a bunch of nobles I don’t know or care about.”

It was tradition, sure— he was certain his father had thrown Dimitri’s father a similarly lavish affair back when he’s gotten married. Maybe both times? But Dimitri and Sylvain didn’t give a damn about tradition, and aside from the handful of personal guests— their old school friends, for the most part— they didn’t care about the nobility Felix was being forced to entertain any more than he did.

It was all pointless— _less_ than pointless, as far as he was concerned.

Lysithea sighed and turned around in his grasp, with no small amount of wiggling, so she could wrap her arms around his neck.

“There’s already a lot of backlash regarding the two of them being together,” Lysithea reminded him, patiently, as if she was talking to a child, which he thought was pretty ironic given that if he tried to speak to her the same way he would have been banished from his own bedroom in an instant. “They _are_ ending two prestigious family lines, after all… They need you to support them, and to make a show of supporting them so the other nobles will think twice about voicing their opposition.”

Felix grumbled— he knew all of that, of course, and he hated when Lysithea ruined his perfectly good complaining with something like _logic_ and _reason_.

“I know,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

“I suppose it doesn’t,” she agreed, one of her little mischievous smiles on her face. “If you’re in a bad enough mood, we might even be able to use it to our advantage. They’ll be far too concerned that you’re going to stab them to worry about their king’s upcoming nuptials.”

“Why does everyone always say that—”

“Hush. I have to finalize place settings. Will it make you happier if I seat Annette and Mercedes at the head of the table with us?”

“Won’t that just annoy all of those stupid nobles we’re supposed to be trying to play nice with?” he asked, just to be contrary, even though that _did_ sound like it would make the evening a lot more tolerable— Sylvain and Dimitri would be seated up with them as well, of course, but Felix had a feeling they were going to be spending most of the evening making goo-goo eyes at each other while ignoring the fact that they were surrounded by Dimitri’s entire court and then some, and Sylvain would try to pull Felix into some of his stupid jokes about the wedding night, and Felix would have to strongly resist the urge to elbow the soon-to-be King-Consort of Faerghus in the gut to get him to shut up.

“Maybe,” Lysithea replied, one of her hands starting to play with the little wisps of hair at the base of his neck that had managed to escape the messy bun he had thrown it into that morning. With the way she was winding it around her finger, he half expected to have Constance-style ringlets when he went to go look in the mirror… “But only half of it is about placating them; the other half is about teaching them their place. Let them know that Dimitri is more than happy to replace them if need be.”

“ _Lysithea_ ,” he said in a dramatic, fake scandalized tone that he would have absolutely denied if anyone else but her had been around to hear it. “You’re almost making this part start to sound interesting.”

“You still have to behave yourself,” she said in that stern, almost motherly tone again. “But… Perhaps not _too_ much,” she added.

He used his arms wrapped around her to pull her in for a kiss.

Lysithea had told him that things would get a lot harder towards the time of the time of the banquet, but it would be a lot easier on the actual night; the servants would be taking care of most of the hard parts, and they would have all of their friends there to help ease the burden of the socializing and politicking parts.

She had been correct about the first part, but absolutely wrong about the second. In fact, Felix was almost starting to get the feeling she had no idea what she was talking about.

Not that he would say that to her face.

What he _would_ say to her face, on the other hand, was a series of curses that would have made a nun blush as he all but collapsed into bed that night, falling face first into a pillow. It was dramatic, but he felt like he’d earned a little drama, after— _all of that._

Lysithea followed him into their room; he heard the door close behind her with a soft ‘click’.

“Well,” she said, forcing fake cheer into her voice as she continued with, “That certainly could have gone _worse_.”

“Mm,” Felix grunted into his pillow in deadpan acknowledgement. “You’re right. Someone could have ended up dead.”

“Based on how things were going, I’m surprised no one did,” Lysithea conceded with a sigh. With his face still buried in his pillow, he couldn’t _see_ her, but he certainly heard her stocking clad feet on the stone floor and then on the rug, and he felt the creak and dip of the bed as she climbed into it alongside him. “But at the very least, I think we’ve convinced the court that Dimitri and the rest of us are not to be trifled with— and we’ve convinced Dimitri to never let you host again.”

If that was going to be the one silver lining of the night, he’d take it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Lysithea said, her hand reaching out to rest on his back. He actually hadn’t been worried whether it was his fault or not, but he still liked the feeling of her touching him. “Those— those backwards barbarians are lucky I didn’t give them exactly what was coming to them, talking about Sylvain like that. He might not be the most upstanding individual, but…”

Lysithea didn’t have to finish that sentence; Felix had been there, after all. He let out a soft chuckle as he turned his head so he wasn’t speaking directly into the pillow.

“I think whatever you would have done to them, no matter how horrible, would have been preferable to what the boar wanted to do to them.”

That, if nothing else, had been the highlight of the evening— proof if any further proof was needed that Dimitri truly cared about Sylvain, watching him literally _crack_ his family’s antique dining table (he could feel his father rolling in his grave at that, but thankfully Felix had never cared much about family heirlooms that just sort of sat around doing nothing) under that insanely strong grip of his while listening to the passive-aggressive snipes the less subtle (and much more stupid) nobles had been making about Sylvain.

Where Sylvain had sat and taken it in good, bemused humour as he usually did, meeting their judgement with his insufferable grin to let them know they didn’t affect him, Dimitri had other thoughts.

“There is one more bright side,” Lysithea said, sliding down so that she was on her back next to him instead of leaning over him.

“And what is that?”

“We have plenty of leftovers.”

They hadn’t even made it to the main course, and most of the soup had ended up on the floor— along with the place settings and everything else on the table that had been abruptly flipped.

Dimitri had apologized for ‘making a spectacle’, but despite the headache the night had become for him (and still _was_ , whenever he thought about the nightmare he was going to have to deal with when all of those nobles who had stuck their tails between their legs and run off back home rediscovered their ‘courage’ in the form of sternly worded letters), seeing him go off at the idiots Felix hadn’t even wanted in his home in the first place because they couldn’t keep their damn mouths shut about his best friend had almost, _almost_ , made it worth it.

And, well. Apparently they had plenty of leftovers.

He flipped over onto his back _specifically_ so he could look Lysithea right in the eye and artfully raise a single eyebrow in a well-rehearsed ‘are you serious’ look, but she was smiling at him with a sparkle in her eyes that told him to quit while he was ahead if he knew what was good for him.

So, he sighed, considered that he hadn’t eaten anything all day except for the salad and a few spoonfuls of soup before Dimitri threw his tantrum, and sat up.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” he said, and Lysithea _giggled_.

It would have been a pretty big exaggeration to say that being a noble let him get away with _everything_ (although that was, admittedly, more because of his conscience than because of anything actually stopping him), but now that he was the head of his household, it did come with some perks.

The fact that he and his wife were lying in bed, surrounded by plates of half-eaten food that threatened to spill if one of them happened to turn over too quickly, was more than enough evidence of that.

“I think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew,” he said, and his brain was so stuffed with cotton from how much he had stuffed himself with everything _else_ that he didn’t even realize he’d made a pun until Lysithea started giggling at it.

“Maybe just a little,” she agreed, even as she helped herself to what he was pretty sure was her second helping of cake— while all of her vegetables remained mysteriously untouched.

Since he was her husband, and not her parent, and also at this point he definitely knew better, Felix decided not to comment on that at all.

He instead busied himself with a rather fancy piece of bread, drizzled with a similarly fancy kind of oil, which he had topped with strips of tender roast that he had torn from the whole with his fingers.

No one around to criticize his ‘table’ manners, or the fact that he was getting crumbs and goddess knows what else all over the bed…

Felix wasn’t normally one to _gorge_ himself, but he’d had a bad day, and besides— it wasn’t like his life depended on him being in perfect shape at all times anymore. Maybe he could indulge _occasionally_.

In fact, he was so dedicated to the idea of eating his feelings at the moment, he still had the last large bite of his almost sandwich in his mouth while he was reaching to pry the leg from a roast chicken.

He nearly dropped the greasy chicken— and choked on the food already _in_ his mouth— when Lysithea let out a sound that was unmistakably a _moan_ , though.

Felix looked over as he tried to clear his throat, thinking to himself how he would never hear the end of it if he survived an entire war only to die choking on some bread because he was surprised by his wife making _sex noises_ about _cake_.

He probably _shouldn’t_ have been so surprised, though; it wasn’t exactly the first time.

He was about to say something— probably something snarky, teasing her for that kind of reaction, considering what she had been like during their school days when it came to letting _anyone_ know how much she enjoyed sweets— but he promptly got distracted and once _again_ almost dropped his food when he turned to her.

She must have gotten icing on her fingers and was just _that desperate_ to get every last bit of it, because she had two fingers in her mouth and was sucking on them and running her tongue between them.

Felix had to turn away and cover his mouth, trying to hide the fact that he was rapidly turning red. If Lysithea was ridiculous for making noises like that over _cake_ , what did that say about him, that he was getting _turned on_ by it…?

“...have some dignity,” he mumbled into his hand.

“Mm? What was that?”

“Are you listening to yourself?” He gave his head a shake. “It’s a piece of cake, not some kind of— _divine experience_. Rein yourself in, why don’t you.”

“What’s gotten into _you_?” Lysithea frowned at him. “I know you had a bad night, but there’s no need to take it out on me— Oh.”

She cut off abruptly, and Felix felt his cheeks heating up even more, because the last thing he saw before he turned back away was Lysithea’s eyes drifting downward— right to the _interesting things_ that had started happening in his lap.

“If you ask me, it seems like _you’re_ the one getting a bit too excited about the situation.”

He didn’t want to see the smile he could _hear_ on her face, but he also couldn’t just— let her have the satisfaction of getting the last word, so he said,

“It’s— because of those _obscene_ noises you’re making.”

“Oh?” Damn. She only sounded _more_ amused. “Like… These?”

He heard the clinking of silverware against a plate, then another one of those moans— he half expected it to sound over the top and ridiculous since he _knew_ she was trying to rile him up intentionally, but no, it still sounded exactly like the noises he was used to hearing in… _Other_ situations, and his body was unfortunately still reacting accordingly.

“ _No one_ can like cake that much,” he muttered as a last-ditch effort to keep the upper hand, but it was too late; Lysithea already had him figured out. If only he hadn’t said anything…

“That depends on the cake,” Lysithea said matter-of-factly. “And this happens to be a very excellent cake. I would have allowed nothing else to be served at a dinner to celebrate such an important occasion. And now, thanks to those self-important nobles who can’t mind their own business, I get to have it all to myself.”

Instead of going to take another bite, Lysithea dragged her finger through the thick icing on the cake and stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking on it to the point of hollowing her cheeks. It was obnoxious and stupid and—

And he couldn’t believe that despite _knowing better_ , he was _still_ getting aroused.

Lysithea laughed, and dragged her finger through the icing again, but instead of sticking it in her mouth, she reached up and wiped a long streak of chocolate onto his nose.

Well— if he couldn’t beat them, the only choice was to join them…

“Want a taste?” Lysithea asked, holding a frosting-covered finger out to him. Obviously she was teasing him; it was pretty well-established that he didn’t like cake, after how long they had been together, except in the occasional rare case…

But he had an _idea_.

“I suppose if you’re offering,” he said, and tilted his head down to suck her finger into his mouth.

She let out a little surprised squeak, and it was hard for him not to laugh and to instead focus on mimicking, to the best of his ability, the way she’d been tormenting him just moments earlier. He looked up at her through his lashes and had to suppress a grin at the sight of her face starting to turn red— she could dish it out but she couldn’t take it, it seemed.

Very interesting.

When he pulled off with a wet ‘pop’ that he had to admit was a bit much (not that Lysithea seemed to _mind_ ), he leaned back and licked his lips and said,

“Actually, not bad.”

(He’d barely tasted it, being too focused on what he was doing, but the cloying sweetness hadn’t stuck in his mouth, so he had to assume he was telling the truth.)

Lysithea had always taken a unique pleasure in flustering him, so it was nice to be able to turn the tables against her for once— her face bloomed a bright red, which she did her best to hide by turning away from him.

Normally when they got like this, Lysithea would immediately try to one up him and fluster him just as badly as he’d flustered her, but considering they were both exhausted and busy stuffing themselves with food originally intended for a dozen people… Well, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was just too tired, and decided to take the loss for once.

Which was why he was so surprised when neither of those things happened.

Instead, Lysithea dragged her finger through the same icing _again_ , and offered him her finger.

“...Here,” she said, her voice muffled by the fact that she was trying to hide her face behind her hand as she said it. “Since… You liked it so much.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, but since she wasn’t looking at him to see it, the effect was rather lost. He almost made a snarky comment, which would have been perfectly in character for him and which he knew wouldn’t surprise her, but…

...Maybe against his better judgement, he was _intrigued_.

Was Sylvain just rubbing off on him too much? Well— poor choice of words, even inside of his own head, but he thought that had to be it. He’d already been getting aroused by the over the top noises and gestures she was making, when he knew she was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him… Now she was acting strangely shy, which was arousing in its own right...

After the day he’d had, maybe it was better to just _go with it_.

He felt her tense up and stifle a squeak of surprise when he dipped his head to once again take her finger into his mouth. Had she been _expecting_ a snarky reply? Well, he was going to have to disappoint, he supposed, because it was suddenly like flipping a switch. He found it easy to tease her the same way she’d been teasing him earlier, and even when the icing that he didn’t even taste was gone, he didn’t pull away…

In fact, he sucked on her finger even harder, hollowing his cheeks and reproducing the obnoxious sucking sounds she’d been making earlier.

At least— he _told_ himself he was just doing it to be obnoxious, and that he was running his tongue around her finger while it was still in his mouth for the same reason, but he could only lie to himself so much before it stopped being convincing.

It was the _sounds_ she was making that drove him. The breathy little sighs she was making gave way to little whimpers that she was clearly trying to cover up, and he suddenly realized he wanted nothing more than to keep her from doing so.

When he _did_ pull away, it was with a mischievous glint in his eye and a smirk he couldn’t keep off his face as he looked at her. Even in the dim candlelight he could see how violently red her normally pale face was, and even beyond his normal smugness at turning the tables on her—

He wanted to see just how far he could push his luck.

Felix could see Lysithea’s hands trembling, but he had it on pretty good authority that it had nothing to do with fear or anything of the sort. It might have been easy to argue that Lysithea’s arousal wasn’t as easy to see as his own, but he would disagree with that.

You just had to know what to look for.

He reached over to take the plate of cake from her— partly because of the plan that was starting to form in his head, but also in part because with how her hands were shaking he could easily see there being a very chocolatey accident, and he didn’t want to interrupt their evening having to call for a change of bedding.

He stuck the fork into the cake and carved off a piece that was definitely too big, but he offered it to her anyway, even dragging it through a smear of icing on the plate. Lysithea made a noise that was half a grumble and half a whimper as she went to take the fork from him— only for him to pull it back, then offer it to her again, holding the fork closer to her face and raising an eyebrow.

Usually she was the one subjecting him to something like this, which he always thought was embarrassing. Thankfully she didn’t do it in front of other people— when they were alone she found it amusing, but being sappy in front of their friends seemed to embarrass her just as much as it embarrassed him, which suited him just fine. He could… _Deal_ with it if she only did it when they were alone together.

Now that he was giving her a taste of her own medicine, he could see why she did it so often. The way Lysithea looked at him like he had suddenly grown an extra head, then looked down at the offered piece of cake, then back at him… It almost made him want to laugh, but instead he just smirked and twitched the fork in hopes of tempting her.

She said nothing as she leaned in to take it into her mouth. Like he’d assumed, it was too big a bite; for a second he was worried she might choke on it if she tried to take it all at once, but Lysithea persevered, and although it took her a second to be able to safely chew it without having to _worry_ about choking, she managed— and when she swallowed with an audible _gulp_ , Felix had to ignore the way his dick twitched in his pants, for reasons even _he_ didn’t want to think about too hard.

“Hmph.” The sight of Lysithea turning away from him to hide the way she was blushing, even as she used her thumb to clean a smear of chocolate sauce from her own face, was more cute than anything. “I’m not a child; you don’t have to feed me by hand.”

“Maybe I’m just trying to fatten you up for the winter,” he joked, making Lysithea turn back to him and give him a harsh glare.

Still feeling bold, he immediately leaned in and kissed her.

Lysithea squeaked against his lips, but almost immediately melted into it. It seemed like she was going to reach up to cup the back of his neck— her hands paused like she wasn’t sure what to do with them, and then he realized it was because her fingers were messy from the cake, and from feeding him frosting.

When they pulled apart, Felix found his breath coming faster. Damn it. He’d set out to fluster her, but he’d only made it so it was impossible to ignore his own arousal, in a situation that really didn’t demand it.

“Well, I’m not the one traipsing through the cold to Fhirdiad and back in the middle of the winter,” Lysithea replied, and he was so distracted by that thought that it took him a second to realize she was responding to his earlier retort. “Maybe _I_ need to fatten _you_ up. I hardly want you freezing to death out there.”

He expected her to reach over and take the cake back from him, but instead she reached across and took his own plate, with its half-eaten sandwich and the chicken leg he’d been helping himself to when she’d so thoroughly distracted him.

She held the sandwich out for him, first, and he almost snatched it away from her to end whatever game they were playing— but it wasn’t like there was anyone around to see them acting ridiculous except for each other…

So instead he just rolled his eyes to make it clear that he thought this was stupid, and leaned in to take a bite.

Half of the filling promptly fell out, thankfully caught in Lysithea’s outstretched hand, and he nearly choked on a snorted laugh.

Even Lysithea started giggling at that, as she put the rest of the sandwich back onto the plate and picked up the chicken instead; it was greasy, but at least less messy as she held it up for him to eat, in that it didn’t immediately fall apart.

“Your face is all greasy now,” she said, still giggling a little as she set the plate aside and reached for a handkerchief instead to reach up and wipe his face clean.

“And _yours_ is covered in chocolate,” he responded immediately, even though she had done a fairly good job at cleaning up the mess she’d made of herself— she didn’t exactly have a mirror to tell whether he was telling the truth.

“Mm. Maybe you can help me clean it up?”

Were they really doing this? They were surrounded by half-eaten food and Felix still felt the sick weight of the stress of the night in his chest— he’d been in a _war_ and he was still pretty sure he’d never been as stressed out or as annoyed at the world as he had been that night.

Not to mention, they were both a complete mess. They had done a half-decent job at keeping the bed clean, but they had neglected themselves in the process.

And yet, none of that served to distract him from the way his traitorous cock twitched again in his pants when Lysithea smiled at him, more of a devious grin than anything, and tilted her head in a clear invitation…

_Fuck it,_ he decided finally, and pratically lunged forward to kiss her again.

Lysithea practically whimpered against his mouth, and unlike the noises that had started all of this, he knew these ones were real.

He licked into her mouth; Felix had lunged forward passionately, but they kissed lazily, both of them as exhausted and stuffed as they were aroused. When he pulled back, he made a humming noise in the back of his throat.

“That cake doesn’t taste so bad,” he said, making Lysithea snicker.

“Is that really your best attempt at seduction?” she asked, and Felix snorted.

“I think we’re past that point,” he said, but when he reached for her, Lysithea practically squirmed out of the way.

“Wait,” she said. “We’re both a mess. Our clothes are going to get dirty. We should take them off.”

“Ha. Is that _your_ best attempt at seduction?”

“I’m just stating a fact!”

Felix wanted to point out that their clothes weren’t exactly in the best condition to start with— he was definitely covered in crumbs, not that he cared— but to Hell with it. He sat back on his haunches and started peeling himself out of his shirt, trying not to squirm too much in case he finally upset one of the plates enough that they really _did_ end up having to change the bedding.

He tossed his shirt aside and, as he was reaching for the lacings of his trousers, he looked up at Lysithea. She was halfway done unbuttoning her own shirt, but had stopped to stare at him like she was frozen in place. He lifted an eyebrow at her.

“I wasn’t putting on a show,” he reminded her, and she squeaked and immediately went back to fiddling with her own buttons, obviously flustered.

“I’m your wife,” she almost grumbled as she struggled with one of them for far longer than she should have. “I’m allowed to stare at you getting undressed.”

“You see it every day,” he replied with a half-snort, but couldn’t help blush at the same time.

(It wasn’t like Felix didn’t know he was attractive— people had been telling him that most of his life— but even after they’d been together as long as they had, he was still always flustered by how _earnest_ Lysithea was about it. She didn’t try to flatter him; that was just how she truly felt.)

He turned to take off his trousers— not because he was embarrassed, just because it was the easiest way to do so without squirming around so much and making a mess, which was his story and he was sticking to it— and when he turned back, Lysithea had managed to strip out of everything but her panties, the rest of her clothes having disappeared _somewhere_ out of the way of the potential mess.

Felix had been serious before— he didn’t know why Lysithea would want to look at him when she saw him every day regardless. He didn’t think there was anything special about him. He wasn’t in especially good shape— well, he probably was compared to the _older_ members of the nobility, but since he’d taken over as Duke Fraldarius he didn’t have nearly as much time for training as he used to have, and it had started to show. He was covered in scars, too… He didn’t care much about that, had never seen scars as something ugly or something to be hidden like some people did, but he knew they weren’t _conventionally_ attractive.

In fact, Felix knew people thought he was attractive, but he’d never really thought that himself. Mostly because he didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about the whole _concept_ of attractiveness. His body had been a well-maintained tool. He’d built muscle because it made him a better swordsman. When his hair, which he’d grown out for most of his life because it was just what men in his family _did_ , had started getting in the way? He had chopped it roughly off, just long enough to pull back into a ponytail, and all the wounded sounds coming out of Sylvain’s mouth in the world couldn’t convince him it had been a bad idea.

Looking at Lysithea, though… He hadn’t ever spent much time thinking about being attractive, or what he found attractive, but ultimately he knew the answer was _her_. Not exclusively, perhaps, but he’d been flustered by her ever since they were classmates— found himself thinking things like ‘cute’ and ‘beautiful’, words Felix didn’t find himself using to describe people especially often.

She was lounging back against several pillows, propped up just high enough that her chin was resting on her breastbone and her shoulders were squared as she rested her hands on her stomach.

Lysithea had always been pale, paler than he was, and that was especially true now that she lived in Faerghus rather than the temperate Alliance. The colour of it always reminded him of the frothy layer at the top of a fresh cream; he had no idea whether that was insulting or not, but it was the first thing that always sprang to mind. She had scars, too— none of them had escaped the war without them, but they weren’t as numerous as his own, since she hadn’t been nearly so up close and personal with the enemy.

Felix had learned some magic during his time at the Academy, but he would never be nearly as good as her— and he’d always preferred the weight and feel of a sword in his hand, even if it meant he was more at risk.

She would probably get mad at him if he mentioned it, but she was starting to get softer around the middle, much like he was; without the lean rations and constant training that came with war, they had both let themselves go a little, but on her…

Well, he certainly didn’t _mind_ seeing it.

Lysithea reached out to him, silently, and Felix crawled up the bed towards her. As soon as he was within reach she pulled him in for a kiss. His hand went to her hip, kneading softly.

Feeling emboldened and a little devilish, and knowing that since things had already gone this far he really had nothing to lose, Felix reached around Lysithea as they lazily licked into each other’s mouths. When he pulled back from the kiss, he was holding a chunk of cake that he had taken with his bare hand, and offered it to her.

“This must be your ultimate fantasy, huh?” he said teasingly. “Getting spoiled like this, lying in bed and having someone feed you cake by hand?”

When they were younger, something like that would have easily made Lysithea throw a hissy fit; now that they were adults, it usually made her pout and sometimes give him the silent treatment if he went a bit _too_ far, or if she just felt like being petty she would come up with some sort of ridiculous ‘punishment’ for him.

Now, though, she was obviously just as invested in the ridiculousness as he was, and really? They had earned this. The chance to just… Be indulgent and silly for a night. It had been a long day…

“I think lots of people have had this fantasy before,” she said instead of getting annoyed. “I’m just lucky enough to have it come true.”

Like she was some indulgent royal being hand-fed by a servant, she squirmed a bit to make herself nice and comfy (without lying down too much so she wouldn’t have to worry about choking), then opened her mouth with her hands folded on her stomach— sticking her tongue out a bit too much to _not_ be an invitation, but instead of thinking about it to hard he just slid the cake into her mouth.

Lysithea happily accepted it, making much more subdued happy noises than before— but when he tried to pull his hand away she whined, reaching up to grab his wrist. As soon as she’d swallowed the bite he fed her, he realized why when she pulled his fingers back to her mouth and started licking the frosting off, the same way he’d done to her earlier…

Now he could understand why she’d gotten so flustered.

“I can’t get you more cake unless you give me my hand back,” he muttered, knowing he was failing at sounding unaffected but pressing onwards anyway.

Lysithea just hummed triumphantly at him around his fingers.

He pulled them back, reached for more cake, and repeated the process. Lysithea didn’t let a single crumb or smear of icing go to waste. Each time she licked his fingers completely clean, only letting him take them back when they met whatever standard she was holding herself against— which he was starting to suspect was the standard of whether or not he was completely flustered, which she was succeeding at each and every time.

He actually started to lose count of how many times they went like that— partly because it was _a lot_ , and partly because he sort of lost himself in a trance. Lysithea was riling him up, but not in the way that left energy buzzing under his skin like it normally did; everything washed over him like a warm wave, or a heavy blanket. Even as he almost mechanically continued to feed her, his limbs started feeling heavy.

But maybe that was just the fact that he’d eaten more that evening than he was sure he’d ever eaten in one sitting in his _life_.

Lysithea’s enthusiasm for the cake started to wane, which was something he’d never imagined seeing in his lifetime— but then, he’d also never seen even Lysithea eat _most_ of a cake in a single sitting. He was probably just imagining things, but he swore her stomach even _looked_ bigger…

Still, he was happy to let her lazily clean his fingers while he curled in against her side. When she relinquished them, she snuggled in close to him, turning her head so she could nuzzle into the crook of his neck, her heavy-looking eyes sliding shut.

“Are you really about to fall asleep right now?” he asked, half incredulous because they were in bed surrounded by plates and platters and did she expect him to just clean up after her? But also… _Endeared_ , somewhat. Just because she always looked adorable when she was sleepy, even if it was in some unfortunate circumstances.

“Mm…” She sleepily mumbled into his neck.

Felix rolled his eyes, about to resign himself to cleaning up and getting her properly into bed so she didn’t freeze to death overnight lying on top of the covers in nothing but her panties, when he felt her hand caressing his hip.

Lysithea rolled over further to better face him, until they were lying chest to chest. He knew he was riled up because just the feeling of her breasts rubbing against him was enough to send a shudder along his spine— especially when he felt her nipples start to harden against him…

His entire body jerked with surprise and sensation, making the plates rattle threateningly, when Lysithea reached down and took hold of him. He was only half-hard after that contentment had washed over him, and it was too dry, but— having her touching him after everything that had happened so far, it was like he was a horny teenager again.

To stop himself from making any embarrassing noises, Felix angled his head to bury his face in her hair; when that wasn’t enough, he bit his lower lip so hard it was close to bleeding.

Lysithea’s hands were so soft that even though it was unpleasantly dry, there was no rasp of skin on skin as she slowly, methodically stroked his cock— at a pace that he was sure was going to drive him mental before long and which had him giving little thrusts of his hips, fucking into her hand. When his movements became more purposeful, her hand stopped.

Felix _growled_ at that— and he was glad that it hadn’t come out as a pathetic whine, which was what had _originally_ been trying to bully its way out of his mouth.

“Relax,” she said with a giggle in her voice that only frustrated him further when he realized she was having too much fun tormenting him. “If you exercise too much after a big meal, you’ll upset your stomach.”

“You were the one stuffing yourself,” he grumbled, resisting the urge to make a Sylvain-level comment about how he should be the one stuffing her, which told him just how desperate he really was— he’d been too focused on _her_ to realize it until he felt her hand on him…

“Just relax…” she repeated, and he almost snapped at her, but her hand started moving again…

She collected the precum welling at the tip and rolled it over the head of his cock with her thumb, dipping under the foreskin in a way that made him thrust against her again without his say in the matter. It wasn’t much slickness, but it was _enough_ that she picked up the pace a little— still not _enough_ , but getting there.

Felix let out another growl— this one creeping _too_ close to a whine for his liking, but he was well past the point of being able to do anything about it.

Maybe, he thought, in the part of his brain that could still generate thoughts behind the mixed haze of horniness, exhaustion, and food fog— maybe she just needed a little more _encouragement_.

It was hard for him to get a hand down between them without getting in her way, but somehow he managed, hand sliding into her panties. She let out a little gasp at the first touch, but where earlier he’d been trying to tease out as many of those noises as he could, _now_ he was well past the point of teasing.

He ran his fingers between her folds— swollen and hot, sticky-wet, and so inviting. In other circumstances he might have smacked her hand away from him and slid down between her legs to get a taste of her. Now, though, they were both exhausted and desperate, so _that_ would have to wait for another time…

He coated his fingers in her slick as thoroughly as he could before sliding one in with no warning, which made her jump and grip his cock a little _too_ tightly— just enough to be on the _border_ of painful.

Thankfully, Felix had always liked a little bit of pain.

“Relax,” he told her, an edge of mockery in his voice. Lysithea growled right back at him in a way that was not at all intimidating— in fact, he would go so far as to call it _cute_.

Felix wouldn’t say he was especially experienced, at least before he and Lysithea got together— in fact, his experience had been almost completely non-existent. But he was experienced enough at making _her_ feel good, and since he didn’t intend for there to be anyone else he’d ever need to use those skills on, that suited him just fine.

He fingered her slowly and deeply; his fingers weren’t especially thick for a man’s, but they were long, and that proved even more useful in many ways. Not intending to tease, he added a second finger as soon as he could do so without causing her any discomfort, gently caressing her inner walls and marvelling in the back of his mind at how _hot_ and _tight_ she was, and so, so soft…

Lysithea, not one to be outdone, had peeled back his foreskin and started rubbing the pad of her thumb all around the head, exactly how she knew he liked it. It distracted him for just a moment, pulling an unexpected moan from his throat.

“Nn… Felix…” There was a distinct whine in Lysithea’s voice that told him she was already getting close. She must have been just as worked up as he was— no real surprise, considering the teasing they had been trading back and forth…

He leaned in, thrusting into her hand as he did so, and started to nibble on her ear. Lysithea’s breath hitched and she squirmed, almost like she was trying to get away from the sensations— overwhelmed, which made a sense of pride bloom in Felix’s chest.

He pressed onwards, hooking his fingers inside of her and scissoring them as he increased the pace. At the same time he angled his thumb so he could rub her clit, so hard and swollen that it _must_ have been painful.

Felix fully intended to give her the relief she obviously needed.

“Felix…!” Lysithea’s voice was more of a breathless gasp than anything, and as if scrambling for any sense of control over the situation that she could find, she started stroking him faster. Still with nothing but his own precum for lube, despite the fact that there was quite a _lot_ of that as his cock twitched in her grasp, it was still dry— but he needed to cum so badly he didn’t _care_ anymore…!

He felt Lysithea’s muscles begin to tighten and twitch where they were pressed together, and knowing she was teetering on the edge, he leaned in and bit her shoulder.

Lysithea cried out, her voice cutting out halfway through a near scream of pleasure as her cunt fluttered around his fingers like she was trying to milk them. He kept up a steady pace finger-fucking her through her orgasm, slowing down only when she began to squirm and her whines became more pained than pleasured…

“Felix…” Her voice was little more than a whining croak, and there were tears clinging to her long pale eyelashes— from exhaustion, from relief, from overstimulation, he couldn’t even begin to guess, especially when his mind was _entirely elsewhere_.

“Lysithea…” he gasped out in return, slipping his fingers out of her and immediately fisting both hands in the sheets on either side of her head. Her pace had slowed and her grip weakened when she came, and so Felix started thrusting into her fist like he was fucking a toy, keeping up a punishing, _desperate_ pace.

“Close…!” Words had left him almost entirely as he felt his arms starting to shake; the exhaustion, the heavy-limbed contended feeling that hadn’t fully left him despite how desperately he wanted to cum, it was all starting to add up.

Lysithea tightening her grip was all he needed, and his arms collapsed underneath him as he came with a strangled shout, painting her pale stomach with his spend.

To be so breathless, he must have been holding his breath nearly the entire time without realizing it— he felt like he’d been sprinting as he fell to the bed, half on top of her and half beside her. Lysithea made a complaining noise in the back of her throat, but Felix ignored her; he knew he wasn’t crushing her, and he wasn’t sure he could move even if he _was_.

They lay there like that for a few minutes; all Felix could focus on was the pounding of his own heart in his ears, and on Lysithea’s deep breathing that was practically panting. Lysithea’s hand found her way into his hair and started almost _petting_ him.

He wouldn’t say out loud that it was a nice feeling, but…

Eventually the feeling started to return to his limbs and he didn’t quite feel like a complete dead weight, even though he still felt almost uncomfortably full— and he hadn’t eaten even half as much as Lysithea had.

Lysithea whined when he pushed himself up off of her, even though just a moment ago she’d been whining about him lying on her in the first place, and Felix ignored her just like he had a moment before.

He surveyed the scene around them. They’d done a half-decent job at keeping things clean while they were actually eating, but… That had obviously gone out the window when they had gotten _distracted_ , because there were crumbs everywhere, things tipped over that shouldn’t have been…

In short, it was a mess. And the two of them weren’t any better. They were greasy, and chocolatey, and sweaty— and now that the orgasmic high was quickly fading, Felix felt like he was _filthy_ and in desperate need of a bath.

“We need to get up,” he said, pushing himself to his knees.

“ _Why_ ,” Lysithea responded, glaring at him as she burrowed further into her pillow in an act of rebellion.

“Because the bed is filthy.” He looked her up and down. “And so are you.”

“You’re not any better,” she grumbled back at him.

“Exactly.”

Felix backed up off of the bed, and went around to his side to start taking the plates from the bed and stack them on his nightstand and on the desk. He wasn’t the sort of person who liked to take advantage of the fact that he had servants— but considering his legs already felt like jelly just trying to clear everything off the bed, and he still had to figure out a way to get them to the bath, he felt like he could _indulge_ for one night.

He didn’t bother trying to preserve his modesty— he just walked around to Lysithea’s side of the bed and, without waiting for her to agree with him, casually slipped his arms under her and scooped her up.

Lysithea squeaked, loudly, and then glared at him like she was blaming him for her making such an embarrassing noise. He ignored her as he carried her towards the bathroom, and she only gave him one solid smack to the chest and didn’t protest any further.

They would have to sleep in one of the guest rooms for the night— but even though he wouldn’t say as much to her, knowing it would just _encourage_ her, it had— _probably_ — been worth it.


	5. lactation / breastfeeding

“Don’t worry, Lysithea— you’re in absolutely perfect health.”

It was hard for anyone to argue with Mercedes when she said something like _that_ — not only the words, but with boundless enthusiasm and sweet confidence.

Felix was still tense, though— he was pretty sure there was nothing to be done about that, and he was equally sure Mercedes wouldn’t think any less of him for it. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in her, it was just…

Well. Everyone, including Mercedes, had been telling him that it was only natural for a soon-to-be first time father to be nervous. He wasn’t sure that was the exact word he would use, but… He didn’t exactly have any experience with this, so he was forced to believe them.

“This is _normal_ , then?”

There was a bite to Lysithea’s voice, one which Mercedes ignored. Given that she was heavily pregnant, and her moods most decidedly had been showing it for _a while_ , he assumed she was afforded some leeway.

“Well… It’s not _that_ common, no,” Mercedes admitted, resting her cheek in her hand with her head tilted. “But it’s not that _un_ common, either. Your body is just… A little excited, that’s all. It’s gotten a bit of a head start on things.”

Lysithea made a _noise_ in the back of her throat that sounded none too pleased, and Felix couldn’t blame her.

Considering the fact that she was currently in the process of leaking through her second shirt of the day.

“Think of it this way,” Mercedes said with another enthusiastic smile, an enthusiasm that probably would have been contagious if she’d been talking to anyone… Well, less _grumpy_ than the two of them. “Sometimes people struggle to start… Well, _producing_ after the baby comes, so at least you won’t have to worry about that!”

If any other doctor had said something like that to her, Felix was sure Lysithea would have started throwing things— or throwing _magic_. It was hard to be angry with Mercedes, though— and Felix had a feeling she took full advantage of that.

Still, Lysithea didn’t seem pleased with her answer. “Is there nothing we can do, then? The baby won’t be here for _months_ yet— and I’m _not_ going to spend all that time changing shirts all day, not to mention the swelling, and the pain…”

“Hm… I’ve heard of plenty of treatments designed to do the opposite, but _stopping_ lactation? I’m afraid I don’t know of anything, but… I can certainly look into it for you.” Mercedes paused to hum, thoughtfully. “Of course, there are other things you could do in the meantime that might be helpful…”

That made Lysithea perk up, and she sat up straight— or as straight as her bulging stomach and her position on the bed would allow her to.

“What kind of things?” she asked.

Felix had a strange feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer— otherwise, Mercedes would have _led_ with that.

“Regular massages can help,” Mercedes said. “They ease the pain, and can help get the milk flowing more naturally— of course that means you should probably do it somewhere you won’t make a mess, like in the bath.”

Well— that was a lot less than what he’d been expecting. Lysithea nodded along. If she’d had the tools, she looked like she would be taking notes.

“Of course, your body is going to be making milk constantly, since it’s designed to feed a hungry mouth, so if you _don’t_ give it somewhere to go you’ll naturally get swollen and sore.”

Felix stayed firmly quiet on that, sitting off to the side and not interrupting— but he couldn’t help but think that it sounded logical enough to him, since the same was true of dairy animals.

He was _definitely_ too smart to say something like that, though— Lysithea could reign in her urge to start throwing fireballs when it was Mercedes, who was genuinely trying to be helpful. Felix was sure that, if he made a comment like that, he wouldn’t be receiving the same kindness.

“If you _really_ want to alleviate the pain, though… well, milk is made to be drunk, isn’t it? And you have a lovely husband who I’m sure would be happy to help with that.”

Aaand there it was.

Felix was surprised by how unsurprised he was. Normally these kinds of things flustered him, hit him out of left field— unless Sylvain was around, because he’d just learned to expect those kinds of comments from him. Not from Mercedes, though.

“Mercedes!” Lysithea sounded flustered enough for the two of them, though, and Felix watched as realization hit her and her face started turning bright red, starting at the tips of her ears and working its way downwards.

“It’s just a suggestion,” Mercedes said, but from the small smile on her face and the glimmer in her eye, Felix got the impression that she knew _exactly_ what she was doing. “Some people enjoy that sort of thing, that’s all. Just thought I’d mention it.”

“Well _thank you_ for the advice,” Lysithea said, turning away in what looked like a huff but which he was pretty sure was because she wanted to hide the fact that she was blushing.

Mercedes, not one to be dissuaded at all, simply said, “Always happy to help,” and granted them another knowing smile.

Felix felt more comfortable at their residence in Fhirdiad than he did in Fraldarius territory. His family home was nice enough, of course, and he’d spent most of his life there— but sitting in his father’s study, going through the same motions he’d seen his father going through ever since he was a child, left him with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach even years later.

Being in Fhirdiad also meant he was close to Dimitri, and usually some of his other friends, since they all moved back and forth between their own territories and the capital city as their duties needed. Felix, as one of Dimitri’s advisors, and the so-called Shield of Faerghus according to his family’s tradition, was there as often as he could afford to leave Faerghus Territory.

When the doctor they called to the estate had confirmed that Lysithea was pregnant, he’d been happy to leave the estate in the hands of his servants with instructions that any urgent business be brought to his uncle, and anything else be sent to his residence in Fhirdiad. Fraldarius territory was isolated as it was; Fhirdiad might not have been much better, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about a late season storm or anything of that nature keeping Lysithea from getting urgent medical treatment if she needed it, which was more important now than ever.

Dimitri and Sylvain, of course, had eagerly offered to let the two of them stay with them in the palace, but Felix had not so politely declined, saying he was pretty sure that half a year spent with the two of them would be enough to make him want to claw out his own eyes.

Their Fhirdiad residence was of course a lot smaller and more simple than their estate, but aside from missing the extensive training grounds attached to his home, Felix had no problem with that. It meant that he could hear Lysithea from any part of the house.

“Felix?” He was downstairs in the dining room, which he was using as a makeshift office. He was happy enough for the distraction from the mountain of paperwork that seemed to crop up every time he turned his back.

“What is it?” he called back, already getting out of his chair.

“Could you… Come help me with something?”

The hesitation in her voice was weird, but Felix was too eager to be doing anything other than paperwork to pay much attention to it.

He climbed the stairs and followed Lysithea’s voice to the bathroom. It wasn’t uncommon for Lysithea to call for his help getting out of the bath, or getting dressed; she didn’t like being coddled anymore than she ever had, but the simple fact was, regardless of the state of her health or her independence, having a pregnant stomach just made some things almost impossible.

When he stepped into the bathroom— not bothering to knock, since she’d been the one to call for him, and he’d seen her plenty of times by now— he was surprised to find her sitting on the edge of the tub rather than in it, towel in hand and already drying herself off.

“What did you need?” he asked. Was it the maturity that came with age and impending fatherhood that made him curious rather than annoyed that she’d seemingly called him upstairs for nothing, or was it the fact that he was more than happy to waste the time he would otherwise be spending bent over letter after trade agreement after land treaty?

It was probably something in the middle of the two, if he was being honest with himself.

“I…” Lysithea cleared her throat. “Mercedes gave me a salve to help with my… Sensitivity. Can you help me with it? It’s over on the counter.”

“Can you not do it yourself?” he asked, even as he turned to look for it. He found the little pot of green-tinted goop, which he assumed was what she was talking about since he didn’t recognize it.

“I… Could,” Lysithea said, frowning at him. “But I always hesitate when it starts to get sore. You’re better at being rough.”

Felix honestly didn’t know how to feel about his wife telling him he was good at being ‘rough’ with her, but he figured that in this situation at least it was meant to be a compliment, and so shrugged it off. It was like when Sylvain used to ask him to help massage his muscles after the rare time he actually put real effort into training— during the act he’d complain about Felix pressing too hard or digging too deep, and Felix would tell him to stop being such a baby, and Sylvain would keep coming back to him every time because no one else could do it quite like he did. He figured the same principle applied.

“You don’t want to be somewhere more comfortable?” he asked, figuring that sitting on the edge of the tub while he knelt on the tile floor in front of her was probably not the most comfortable way to be doing this.

“I don’t want to… Make a mess,” Lysithea said, blushing and turning away. “Either from getting the salve on everything, or in case I start, you know… Leaking.”

Felix could have made a joke about how the ship had sailed on that, since ever since her milk had come in she had been leaking everywhere and making a mess of everything, but he held his tongue. Instead he simply removed the outermost layers of his clothing, tossing them into a pile on the floor he was sure to get scolded for later, and rolled up his sleeves as he took the salve from the counter.

Lysithea had one eyebrow raised and even though she didn’t ask him any question directly, he answered the unspoken question with, “ _I_ don’t want to be the thing that gets messy instead.”

He dipped two fingers into the ceramic pot of goop, scooping some out. He took a moment to test the consistency. It felt a little thicker than the ointments he usually used to treat scrapes and bruises that were too minor to bother with healing magic. He could see why Lysithea was worried about it getting everywhere and staining.

It also had a sharp, herb-y, almost cool smell to it, and felt slightly cool to the touch as well. He remembered one time, back during their Academy days, when Lysithea— pale as she was— had gotten sunburned after a long training exercise on a hot summer day, and Petra had offered her something to soothe the pain and take the heat out of it. It smelled almost the same.

“Are you going to sit there staring at it or are you going to actually help me?” Lysithea snapped, going to cross her arms and stopping herself when she realized it would unbalance her and only make the job she was snapping at him about harder.

“I _could_ just leave you to do this yourself,” he snapped back. “You called me away from important work to help you with this.”

“Like you would see that as anything but a bonus.”

They frowned at each other for a moment before Felix couldn’t hold back a chuckle and a shake of his head any longer, and Lysithea giggled.

“Relax, relax,” he said as he set the rest of the salve aside so he could shuffle forward and get to work. “I’d tell you to keep your smalls on, but.”

He’d never been the sort to make jokes like that, when he was younger. Or even as recently as a few years ago. Everything about his childhood right up until the end of the war had only served to harden him, and stupid jokes weren’t worth his time. It was only now that everything— and every _one_ — had settled down that he found he could relax enough to see the merit in it, even if peacetime, several years down the road, _still_ felt slow and left him feeling like his skin was crawling a bit.

It helped when it was at Lysithea’s expense. He loved seeing the look on her face as she frowned at him.

If she had some kind of witty— or _annoyed_ — response, it was lost in the breathy sigh she let out as he reached out and gently brushed his fingers across her breast.

Because of how sensitive Lysithea’s breasts had been since her milk came in, and how embarrassed she was about leaking all over everything, Felix hadn’t really touched her there in a while. Not that that was personally a problem for him. He’d never really understood the fascination with them— no matter how many times Sylvain tried to ‘convince’ him.

Mostly he liked Lysithea’s because they were attached to Lysithea, and because she always made the sweetest noises when he touched them. It was no secret that Felix always wanted to be the best at everything he tried to do, and he applied that towards pleasing his wife just as much as he did towards wielding a sword. Those noises always brought out a sense of triumph and satisfaction. Even if he had plenty of ways of doing so without going anywhere near her breasts, he had to say, he missed hearing those noises in particular.

He would be lying, though, if he said that he wasn’t… A _bit_ fascinated by how they had… _Changed_ since the whole thing had started.

Lysithea had always had a small chest, something he’d barely noticed because of how little it mattered to him. But it made it easier to tell just how swollen they had become…

It made sense, didn’t it? He knew it wasn’t smart of him, but he couldn’t help thinking again about the cow comparison. If you didn’t milk one for long enough, their udders would get noticeably bigger, and they would start to get painfully sore, which was… Exactly what was happening with her.

He massaged her breasts a little more firmly, massaging the salve into them. He didn’t stop when her breathy sighs turned into whimpers that she tried to hold back; after all, she had asked him to be ‘rough’ with her, and if he was doing more harm than good, she wasn’t some waif that would grin and bear it. She was always the type to let him know _exactly_ how she felt.

“...harder…”

Felix didn’t even realize he was staring at her chest until he heard _that_ and had to look up— to find Lysithea looking away with one hand over her mouth, her face starting to turn red.

“What was that?” He raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

“I-I said…” Lysithea gave her head a small shake. “I just said that you can… Go harder, if you want. It won’t bother me.”

“Alright. If you insist.”

He reached down to get another scoop of the salve and rubbed it between his hands, though not long enough to really warm it up. Lysithea shuddered when it touched her skin, and since she had said it so plainly, he was more forceful this time— swollen as they were, her breasts fit perfectly into his cupped hands, and he squeezed them and rolled them around in his hands.

With the salve on his hands, he almost missed the wetness leaking from her nipples— until he stopped to get more of the goop and saw the drops of pearly white against the pink peaks, clear as day.

He wasn’t sure Lysithea even noticed it— her face was slightly pinched from his rough treatment, and she had her eyes squeezed shut. Normally when her milk started, she got so embarrassed that she either had to cover herself or run and hide, no matter how many times she was assured by people better at making reassurances than him that it was perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of.

He mostly hoped that she would be over it by the time the baby actually came, since feeding them was kind of the whole point.

At the same time, _he’d_ never really seen it before, and he couldn’t help but be… _Intrigued_? Yeah, that was what he was going to call it. He hadn’t been around many pregnant women in his life, and every new development in Lysithea’s pregnancy was pretty fascinating to him. He’d never really thought about how it all _worked_ beyond the most basic mechanics of it, until he was going through all of it with her.

The fact that her body was literally _making food_ for their baby— Felix wasn’t easily impressed, especially by something that, all things considered, was perfectly biologically normal, but that was _damn_ _impressive_.

He watched the drops roll down her nipples, stopped from dripping down her breasts by his hands still massaging them firmly. It didn’t look like the milk he was used to; it was thin, enough that he could have mistaken it for water if not for its cloudy yellow colour. He’d only been half listening when Mercedes had been explaining everything to Lysithea, but he could vaguely remember that it was normal for the milk to get thicker and fattier over time, as the baby drank.

_“It’s perfectly normal for women to start making milk before the baby comes,”_ she’d said with her usual smile, even though that was not the answer Lysithea had wanted to hear, and she’d made that perfectly clear. _“You’re…_ Producing _a lot more than average, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. It’s just a good sign of things to come!”_

The more he massaged, the more of the milk started to come out, spilling over his fingers every time he brushed across her nipples. Eventually Lysithea _did_ notice, and she let out an embarrassed whimper— but surprisingly, she didn’t ask him to stop _._

He supposed she _had_ planned ahead for the possibility, which was why they were doing this in the bathroom.

Felix stared at the rivulets that ran down her breasts. He’d been smart to take his overcoat off and roll up his sleeves; his hands were quite messy between the salve and the milk, although he surprisingly didn’t feel like complaining. He found the whole thing in equal parts fascinating and soothing…

“Felix—” Lysithea’s voice hitched, and even though it was a sound he was used to hearing, he paused immediately.

Partly out of concern— he had a lot more to be _concerned_ about nowadays, after all— and partly just because, well. He felt like tormenting her a _little_.

He let his hands hover— he didn’t really have anywhere to put them, since in this position his natural urge was to rest them on his knees, and he certainly wasn’t doing that while he was still otherwise dressed— and looked up at her, waiting for her to explain herself.

Lysithea’s almost inhuman paleness meant that when she blushed— which was often— it showed very clearly. So he wasn’t surprised to see her face turning bright red, and to see that it was spreading quickly.

“I think— I think you’ve done enough,” she said, voice quivering quite a bit despite her best efforts, which even Felix couldn’t help but find adorable. “...Thank you.”

They way she said that, without acknowledging either the fact that she’d leaked milk all over him or the fact that she’d been practically _moaning_ over it, made Felix want to laugh. But instead he just nodded and rose to his feet.

“About time,” he said, even though he had no desire to go back to what he was doing before she called him. “Was I ‘rough’ enough for you?”

He didn’t wait for her answer before turning to go wash his hands, both because he didn’t want to get what was on them all over everything, and because Lysithea always reacted the best when he gave her the impression he was totally unaffected, or maybe that he hadn’t even noticed anything amiss at all.

“...You were acceptable,” Lysithea said through what sounded like gritted teeth, and Felix smirked as he watched her in the mirror, turning away and carefully folding her arms across her chest— _under_ her breasts, not touching them at all.

Felix _knew_ he was more than ‘acceptable’, but he’d let her have it this once.

After all, he was having some rather… _Uncharacteristic_ thoughts, and he was going to get his vindication sooner or later. So he’d let her have a small victory for now.

But Felix was never one to back down from a challenge.

There were _some_ perks, even Felix had to admit, to being a Duke and the advisor to the king.

First, Dimitri didn’t really expect him to be the kind of duke his father had been, which pretty meant he was just the same as he’d always been, but with extra power— and the responsibilities that came along with it, of course, but even those weren’t as terrible as he’d once thought of them.

(He was always going to hate paperwork, but now that things had settled down a bit, it was more rote than anything— or maybe he was just getting boring as he got older.)

Second, all of those stuck-up nobles, the one’s he’d always hated more than anything? Now they were _scared_ of him.

Which was precisely why he actually managed to get home at a decent hour for once; when he’d finally gotten tired of the pointless meeting going round and round in circles as they _always_ did, because every one of the rich idiots couldn’t agree on a single damn thing unless it benefited _them_ , he’d simply stood up, slammed his hands down on the table, and loudly announced he was leaving and so the meeting was _over_.

No one had tried to stop him. He wasn’t sure yet what he would do in the unlikely situation that someone _did_ , but he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. And since he was the long-time best friend of the King and King-Consort, and the Duke of the second most powerful family in all of Faerghus, he _could_ do pretty much whatever he wanted.

Besides, he had a _pregnant wife_ at home; if anyone was going to make a fuss about him wanting to be at home with her instead of stuck in endless, pointless meetings, _he_ wasn’t going to be the one that looked bad.

The house was lit up and warm when he arrived, and Felix instantly felt the tension from a long day of dealing with morons start to melt away. Another sign he was growing and maturing, he supposed; he didn’t hold onto the slightest bit of anger the way he used to.

“Lysithea?” he called out. Even though it was still a reasonable time for him to be home, most of the servants would have probably retired for the evening, leaving the apartments with only the single valet who lived in the servants’ quarters and kept the place in order until the rest returned in the morning in time for breakfast. He was vaguely hungry, and wondered if he should call for some food before going to find her; but at the moment he just wanted to see her more than anything.

Getting older was also apparently turning him into a complete _sap_.

He started climbing the stairs and called out again. “Lysithea? Are you up here?”

It was too early for her to be asleep— unless he’d caught her in one of those too-long naps she had been taking more and more recently. Making another entire person took a lot out of someone, he wagered.

“In here,” Lysithea called from their bedroom, nipping that train of thought in the bud. “But don’t—”

“Didn’t you hear me calling for—”

Lysithea hadn’t finished what she was saying before Felix was already coming in the room, and Felix didn’t get a chance to finish what _he_ was saying before he stopped dead in his tracks, frozen in place by the sight of Lysithea _also_ frozen in place—

—while laying in bed naked and groping her own chest.

Her eyes were almost comically wide as she stared at him, although he was standing there unable to tear his eyes away from _her_ , so he probably didn’t look any better.

And he wasn’t thinking much about how _he_ looked, anyway.

When she started turning red, it began at the tips of her ears and worked its way downwards quickly.

Of course, it was hard to tell what was her blushing from embarrassment, and what was just her being flushed from her… _Activities_.

“I—” Lysithea made a sound like she was choking on her own words before finally glaring at him and reaching for her robe, which was lying on the bed next to her, to cover herself up. “I was about to tell you not to come in!”

That was enough to snap Felix out of his stupor, and he stepped into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. “You should have spoken faster. This is _my_ bedroom too; I can come and go as I please.”

“Hmph. And to think you called _Dimitri_ a boar for so long when _you’re_ the real animal here.”

He wasn’t exactly fond of hearing Dimitri’s name from his naked wife in their marriage bed, but he’d let it slide for now.

He didn’t dignify it with a response, though; instead he just stepped closer to the bed and climbed onto it, reaching out to take the robe from her and toss it onto the floor to be dealt with later. Lysithea didn’t try to stop him, but she did turn her head and avoid his eyes in embarrassment.

“Finally taking Mercedes advice, I see.” He didn’t touch her, not yet; he just sat on the bed next to her, watching her with an idle smirk on his face.

“It’s _uncomfortable_ ,” Lysithea whined, even though he knew if he described it as that, she would freak out about it. “Once the baby comes and starts drinking, it should be much easier, but… Ugh, I just feel like I’m going to _explode_.”

_Leak everywhere, is more like it_ , Felix thought but didn’t say out loud, less because he was afraid of making such a comment and more because Lysithea had stopped trying to avoid his gaze and was looking up at him now almost… _Pleadingly_.

“If you’re going to ignore my privacy anyway,” she said, clearly still embarrassed even if she was making eye contact (which he quickly diverted to looking at her breasts, still loosely cupped in her own hands— for more reasons than one), “The least you can do is help.”

“Need me to be ‘rough’ with you again?”

“If you’re just going to be a jerk about it—”

“You knew what you were getting into when you married me. No use complaining about it now.”

Lysithea ‘hmph’ed at that, but before she could say anything else, Felix started undressing— he peeled off his gloves, kicked off his boots and socks, and removed layers until he was in nothing but his smallclothes.

“You were messy enough when we were somewhere easy to clean,” he said. “Are you sure you won’t make a mess _here_?”

“I’m _comfortable_ ,” she said firmly. “And that’s rare these days, so if you think you’re going to embarrass me into getting out of this bed, you are _sorely_ mistaken. And this is your fault to start with, so take responsibility.”

“You weren’t exactly an _unwilling participant_ ,” he reminded her, even as he settled in next to her and squirmed to get comfortable.

Lysithea let out a murmuring whine, but settled back into the mattress with a little wiggle of her shoulders and hips that made Felix chuckle. She closed her eyes, looking almost like she was ready to go to sleep, but cracked one open and glared at him when he didn’t immediately start touching her.

“Is the salve around here somewhere?” he asked, looking over her at the nightstand on her side of the bed, then behind himself at his own nightstand.

“I… Wasn’t using it,” she said. “I only have so much of it, I hardly want to waste it. I save it for when the pain is at its worst. Sometimes I just need a bit of a massage to help with the pain.”

Felix nodded. He reached out to take one breast in hand and start kneading it.

Lysithea made a noise halfway between a whine and a sigh in the back of her throat, and she looked like if she was any more relaxed, she was going to melt right into the bed. He spent a few second just sort of staring at her before the thought hit him that it would be easier if he had her sitting in his lap, so he could massage both of her breasts as the same time— but she seemed to be content enough like this, and the longer she was pregnant, the rarer it was to see a content Lysithea.

Since she was still more than able to fry him with her magic even when she couldn’t walk around without waddling hilariously, he didn’t _say_ that, of course.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before his massaging made Lysithea start leaking. She squirmed as soon as it happened, but either she was starting to get used to it or the relief of the pain was more important than the embarrassment, because she didn’t say anything.

In Felix’s defense, it had been a long, frustrating day; he would have been happy, in fact, to just come home, eat enough that he wouldn’t feel starving when he woke up, and head straight to sleep. Was he tired enough to impair his judgement? Probably not, but if someone asked, he would have happily jumped on the excuse.

He really didn’t have any other reason as to why his first thought when he saw the bead of milk well up and start to roll down the swell of her breast was, _That’s going to stain the sheets_ , just before he leaned in and licked the trail of milk from her skin.

Lysithea was clearly half asleep, because it took her a solid second to realize what he’d just done; she giggled reflexively at the feeling of his tongue on her skin, then froze up at about the same time he did, like they both realized at the exact same moment what had happened.

They looked at each other, their eyes both wide as saucers; for once, Felix didn’t have the thought, even in the back of his mind, that it was funny to see that look on Lysithea’s face.

He felt like he should apologize— like he had overstepped a boundary, but he wasn’t exactly the kind of person who was known for being good at apologizing. And besides, he was still stunned by the sudden realization of what he’d just done.

Then, the tension broke— when Lysithea let out a far too arousing-sounding whine.

“Why did you _do_ that,” she said, even though it sounded like it should have been a question; then again, it might have just been because her voice was muffled by the way she had her arm lying across her face, hiding it.

“You’re the one always complaining about making a mess,” he said, but his heart was equally not in it; he could feel his own face heating up and he felt compelled to look away, even though Lysithea was _definitely_ not looking at him.

She whined again.

“It was— just an impulse,” he said. “Won’t happen again.”

“I—”

Lysithea swallowed hard.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did…”

Felix’s head snapped up.

Lysithea was still covering her face, but Felix reached up to push her arm out of the way so he could see her properly. She was blushing, of course, and she didn’t want to look him in the eye— but for all he was usually fine with people avoiding eye contact, this was one of those situations where it was necessary.

“Hey.”

He reached up to take her chin in his hand, tilting her face towards him, forcing her to look at him; he didn’t do it forcefully enough to _hurt_ , but Lysithea was stubborn. Sometimes she needed a real hands on approach. Literally.

Once Lysithea was looking him in the eye, though, he found that he was just as speechless as before.

“Mercedes… Did say it could help,” Lysithea said with a small huff, turning even redder. “All this milk having nowhere to go is what’s causing the discomfort, right? So if it did have somewhere to go…”

Felix nodded. It was logical. Pragmatic, even. Lysithea had shut Mercedes down completely back then, but that was probably out of embarrassment at having someone else make a suggestion about their sex life— they got enough of that from Sylvain, really. And as time drew on, the pain got worse and worse, or at least Lysithea complained that it did. Maybe she had just been pushed over the edge finally.

Felix couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t… _Thought_ about it, ever since that day not so long ago when he’d helped her with the salve and the massage. And it was perfectly natural, right? He wasn’t a horndog like Sylvain, but he didn’t feel like it was _perverted_ to say he liked his wife’s breasts. It was perfectly normal, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t sucked on Lysithea’s tits before. They were even bigger now, which was a bonus, although he didn’t have much of a preference when it came to size.

There was just… Going to be something coming _out_ of them.

The thought definitely didn’t make him half-hard in his smallclothes, because _that_ would have been weird. Right?

“If it’ll help,” he said, like the thought didn’t excited him at least _a little bit_ , like there wasn’t some primal, horny part of his brain that had been suppressed and left to fester and grow in the back of his mind thanks to his repressed Faerghusian upbringing that was now about to strangle him if he didn’t _get on with it_.

And that was about the time he decided to say _fuck it_ and just _went_ for it, because if he was in it this deep already, there was no point in trying to back out now.

He leaned back in, latched onto her nipple, and sucked.

Lysithea hissed sharply through her teeth, her hand coming down on the back of his head and tangling in his hair. He looked up at her, but only pulled off when she started tugging so hard it felt like she was going to rip his hair out by the roots.

“Be more _gentle_ ,” she chided, glaring down at him.

And while the flush on her face said something entirely different about whether or not she was enjoying herself, he _was_ supposed to be ‘helping’ her, so he decided to go easy on her. For now.

This time, when he leaned in, he started by pressing several gentle kisses across her breasts, just barely avoiding her nipples as he moved from one breast to the other. His hand came up to knead, equally gently, at the one his mouth wasn’t paying to at the moment.

Lysithea let out a little whimper, but a glance up at her from beneath his eyelashes was enough to tell him it wasn’t from pain. He shifted to get closer and be more comfortable; pressed flush against her side, he couldn’t reach both breasts with his mouth, but she certainly didn’t seem to mind his rhythmic kneading instead.

In this new position, his cock was pressed against her hip, but he ignored it. This wasn’t about him, after all.

He _had_ sworn to himself he was going to get her back for that ‘acceptable’ comment.

He closed his lips, gently, around her nipple. Lysithea sucked in another sharp breath, then sighed and relaxed into the mattress when he started suckling at her much more gently than he had at first.

He had no idea why— it wasn’t like he had any idea of what he was doing— but he expected it to… _Take_ longer than it did, but it only took a few moments of suckling before the first drops of milk came.

It was thick and sweet, but somehow he didn’t hate the taste. The flow started slowly at first, but the longer he gently sucked on her nipple and kneaded her breast, the steadier the stream became.

He was careful not to make a mess; he didn’t spill a single drop.

Lysithea let out another whimper and her hand came down on the back of his head. He instinctively pulled off, expecting her to complain that he was being too rough again even though he was being careful, but she pushed him back down until he latched on again and started gently petting his head.

The sensation was… Nice. It threw Felix off. He wasn’t exactly used to being treated so softly and gently— not that they weren’t saps sometimes, but usually in bed they were both too impatient to be… _Soft_.

“That feels… Nice,” Lysithea admitted, which was exactly what he’d wanted to hear… But even though he’d achieved his goal, he didn’t want to stop.

It wasn’t the taste of the stuff, necessarily— it was milk. It was thicker and creamier than the milk he was used to, but it was still milk, nothing all that special about it.

It was more the fact that it was coming out of _Lysithea_ — he wasn’t normally a sappy person, but thinking about the fact that his wife was carrying around _their child_ and her body was making _food_ for their _baby_ , who could blame him for getting a little soft just thinking about it?

And the noises Lysithea was making— soft little sighs and contented noises that were halfway to moans— certainly helped, too.

He pulled away and licked his lips, looking up at Lysithea. “Better?”

“...Better,” she confirmed, doing her best to hide her face by laying her arm across her eyes. “Could you… Take care of the other side as well?”

Felix didn’t even reply; he just rolled onto his back so he could clamber onto his hands and knees and lean carefully over her to start working on the other breast.

Lysithea squirmed under him, pressing and rubbing her thighs together, and he stopped kneading the opposite breast to reach down and pry her legs apart.

“Feeeeelix,” she whined, squirming even more, but the bulk of her belly and his body caging her in kept her from getting anywhere.

“Relax,” he said with a chuckle. “What are you getting so worked up about?”

“I _hate_ you.”

“You married me.”

“You’re the _worst_.”

Felix wasn’t normally the teasing type; he was too impatient. Normally Lysithea was the one teasing _him_ , to see how worked up she could get him before he _snapped_.

As he ran his fingers gently through her folds, barely more than a tickle, and felt her tense up… He was beginning to see the appeal.

“Relax,” he repeated, more sincerely this time, as he circled her entrance with the tip of his finger. She was so wet she was practically dripping— he’d been joking about her being worked up, but apparently he’d been right on the money. At the same time she was so tense, squirming and trying to close her legs, that he didn’t think he could get even _one_ finger inside of her without hurting her, which was the last thing he wanted to do—

(Unless she asked him to, of course.)

Felix wasn’t even sure Lysithea had heard him; she was lying there with her eyes screwed firmly shut, her face completely red, squirming gently. Her opposite breast, now left alone since both of his hands were occupied, was starting to dribble. He leaned over and licked up the trail of milk rolling down the underside, making her shudder under him.

Well, if she wasn’t even going to _try_ to relax, then he would have to do it for her. He went back to sucking on her tit, kneading it to encourage the milk to flow. He fully intended to drink her dry, or as close to as he could manage, even if it made his stomach full to the bursting… 

Like Mercedes said, it was supposed to _help_.

As he suckled, swallowing down enough of her milk to put any hungry babe to shame, he continued to run his fingers along her hot, wet slit. Although he prodded her entrance a few times, it was teasing more than anything, just to feel Lysithea squirm under him some more.

“ _Felix_ ,” she whined again, her hand coming back to the back of his head— not the harsh tugging from before, and not the gentle petting either, but something between, her nails scratching pleasantly at his scalp as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I… Th-that’s enough…”

Hearing Lysithea’s voice breaking like that sent two emotions shooting through him at once— a smug sort of contentment at making someone as assertive as her feel so good that she sounded so meek and docile because of how overwhelmed she was… And a sharp spear of _lust_ at how badly he wanted to _wreck_ her whenever she made noises like that.

Of course, he couldn’t be as rough with her as they would normally be… But that didn’t mean he couldn’t wreck her in _other_ ways. And now that he knew exactly how much of an effect he was having on her, to the point that she couldn’t even _try_ to hide it anymore, he was even _more_ motivated to make sure she wouldn’t be calling him ‘adequate’ at the end of the night.

He couldn’t resist hollowing his cheeks to pull off her tit with an audible _POP_. He flicked his tongue teasingly across her nipple, then dragged the flat of his tongue across it.

“Cheek,” Lysithea hissed, giving him a gentle smack on the back of the head. Felix snorted.

“Feeling better?” he asked, admiring the way Lysithea’s nipples had gone from pink to red, each with a small pearl of milk sitting neatly on top of them in spite of the way her chest was heaving, like something straight out of a painting.

“I will if you would stop teasing me,” she said, with none of her usual bite, because she sounded nearly breathless.

Felix leaned in and pressed a kiss to her breast— away from the peak of her nipple— and kissed his way across her collarbone and up towards her throat.

“I wouldn’t _have_ to tease if you would just _relax_.”

“And how am I supposed to relax looking at you doing… _That_?”

“You liked that?”

Even Felix wasn’t sure whether he was trying to tease her, or whether he was genuinely surprised. He was sure neither of them would have thought about something like this if it hadn’t been for Mercedes’ offhand comment, but… If he was being honest, he didn’t _hate_ it.

Maybe he actually sort of enjoyed it as more than just a way to tease his wife and get her to admit she was feeling good.

_Maybe_.

“I—” Lysithea whined. “I’m just… _Sensitive_. A-anyone would enjoy something like that. It has nothing to do with the… The…”

“...the milk?”

“R-right!”

Felix raised an eyebrow at her as he leaned forward to rest his chin against her collarbone.

He knew Lysithea was lying, but then, it was just as hard for him to admit, so was it fair to call her out on it? He didn’t particularly enjoy the taste, and imagining being treated like a nursing baby practically sent a chill up his spine, so he really didn’t know _why_ he enjoyed it either… Just knowing that he was helping, in some small way, to ease the burden on her when she was already doing so much, knowing that she was the _mother_ of his _child_ and there was very real evidence of that in both the swell of her stomach that he was suppressing the urge to grind against and in the warmth and weight in the pit of his stomach from her milk, all of that combined was arousing in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

So instead he just fell back on what he _did_ know; he suddenly flicked his wrist to swipe his thumb unexpectedly across her clit at the same moment as he leaned in to kiss her.

Lysithea let out a startled gasp of pleasure at the sudden sensation, which made it easy for his tongue to slip into her mouth, probing into every corner, making sure she got a _thorough_ taste of herself.

A long strand of saliva kept them connected when they pulled away as Lysithea gasped like she’d just been held underwater, until Felix licked his lips. Lysithea mimicked him, then said quietly, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her,

“Huh… That was… Different.”

And while she was distracted and relaxed, he slipped a finger inside.

“Ah!” Lysithea gasped and arched off the bed, her inflated stomach bumping against his. He hissed at the contact— not _quite_ where he wanted it, but an easy enough problem to remedy. While fingering her hard and fast, feeling her soft walls clinging to him like there was any possibility he was going to _stop_ , he shifted forward so his hard cock was pressed against the swell of her belly through his smalls.

He didn’t have a free hand to easily _remove_ them, but it was fine. It was safe to say he was well past the point of caring whether things got _messy_.

“Felix… Ah!” She gasped again and arched once more when he crooked his finger _just so_ , making Felix moan as she pushed hard against his aching cock, his hips rocking almost leisurely— not because he wasn’t eager to cum, but because he knew it wouldn’t take him much to get there, and he wanted to make sure she was taken care of first.

He’d joked about her being worked up, but she certainly wasn’t the only one, and it was only partly to do with the fact that it had been… a _while_ since they’d done anything like this.

He partly withdrew his finger and Lysithea’s hand in his hair gripped so tightly he hissed as it felt like it was being pulled out at the roots. “Don’t— don’t stop.”

“Impatient,” he said through gritted teeth, ignoring (and somewhat enjoying) the pain as he withdrew his finger only to spread her slick on a second and sliding both in, scissoring and crooking them gently inside of her hot, wet cunt.

The urge to fuck into that tight heat shot through him like a wayward Thoron spell, but there would be time for that later. They were both too far gone for that now, and Felix was pretty sure that if he pulled out of Lysithea now, he would have a bald spot for the rest of his days.

The front of his smalls were soaked with pre-cum as he rutted mindlessly against her stomach, keeping up any sort of a rhythm only because he was matching his speed with his fingers as he fucked her hard and fast. Lysithea was wantonly moaning beneath him, one hand still gripping his hair and the other holding on tightly to the arm he was using to hold himself up, leaving little white crescents where her nails dug into him so hard he was sure she was going to draw blood.

“Ah— ah— F-Felix, please—”

Lysithea’s cunt fluttered around his fingers, clenching with the bucking of her hips. He knew she was close, and the heat pooling in his gut told him he wasn’t far behind, so…

He rolled his thumb firmly against the hard nub of her clit at the same moment as he leaned in and latched firmly onto her nipple, dragging his teeth none-too-gently across the reddened peak as he did.

Lysithea practically _screamed_ at the same moment as one last spurt of sweet, frothy milk filled his mouth, her cunt gushing and tightening like a vice around his fingers, and that was all it took for him to spend _hard_ in his smalls.

For a moment it was all he could do to keep himself up, arm shaking with the effort as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel sweat rolling down his face and back, and he was breathing heavier than he had after any training session, with the heavy weight in the bottom of his stomach…

Before he could collapse on top of her, Felix rolled to the side so he could collapse onto his back instead.

Lysithea whimpered when his fingers slipped out of her, but she sighed and settled back into the mattress easily enough, both of her hands coming to rest on the swell of her stomach.

As the immediate post-coital bliss started to fade, Felix groaned slightly at how uncomfortably _sticky_ he felt— but at the same time he wasn’t sure his legs were yet up to the task of carrying him to the bathroom to clean up.

Lysithea groaned in response, saying, “You enjoyed that _far_ too much,” as she reached up to prod at one of her tender nipples, wincing slightly.

“You were the one who wanted my help,” he replied immediately, without missing a beat. “ _Did_ it help?”

“...Yes.” Lysithea sounded reluctant, and Felix chuckled. “Only because the discomfort was so bad! That doesn’t mean we’re doing this again! Unless _you’re_ not telling _me_ something?”

“Nothing at all,” Felix lied, instinctively licking his lips, one of his hands coming to rest on his own belly— not swollen like hers, but it certainly felt like it, since he’d certainly drank his fill.

“Good,” Lysithea huffed.

“Good.”

“...Though that doesn’t mean I’m not open to… _Other_ activities. Now that the pressure isn’t so terrible.”

Felix looked over to see Lysithea’s pink eyes glittering at him in the half-darkness, and he groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“...Give me a few minutes.”

The baby couldn’t come soon enough.


End file.
